


No Longer Darkly Dreaming

by DarkLordRising



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Complete, F/M, In Character, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLordRising/pseuds/DarkLordRising
Summary: Dexter is a heartless killer pantomiming emotions and living in a world of lies to hide who he really is...but what happens when one of his victims opens his mind to the possibilities of a relationship he cast aside?AU Season 8, minor spoilers for seasons 1-7
Relationships: Debra Morgan/Dexter Morgan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, fan based parody. The Dexter TV series, the Dexter novels and all web based properties belong to Jeff Lindsay and those he sold a license to. 
> 
> I own nothing.

It’s going to happen tonight. Has to happen...at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself as I stare down at the still sleeping body wrapped in plastic. Always so...messy but delightfully necessary. 

Slowly, my latest friend wakes up, blinking the last vestiges of animal tranquilizer from his body, letting his mind clear from the heavy fog.

“Hi.” His screams are muffled but that’s nothing a few slaps to the face wouldn’t stop. I pull a knife from my kit and press it hard against his throat, a sadistic little smirk crossing my lips. “I’m going to Ungag you. If you scream, then I won’t have a chance to talk to you and trust me, you’re going to want to talk to me. Understand?”

The man nods. Thank...whatever’s out there that these nonverbal cues exist, I’d have never spoken to any of my victims if they didn’t. I pull the cloth from his mouth and sit back on the plastic lined sheet covering one of the benches of the locker room. 

“Not quite the end to today’s game you expected, huh?”

“L-Look you’ve...fuck! You’ve got the wrong guy, I swear to fucking god!” The denial ignites a fury in my heart, in the very pits of my soul as I hold back the floodgates, only a chuckle leaving me as the man begs. “I swear to god I never hurt anyone-why are you doing this?! You’ve got the wrong guy-!”

I shove the wad of cloth back into his mouth, tutting at him with a wave of my finger. “Yelling isn’t allowed either. You think you would be here on my...normally I would say table but I work with what I’m given. Look at the pictures of the kids you took away from this world. Deric Mendez, Olivia Wassersen, Paul Volia. You know perfectly well why you are where you are.”

The man rocks as much as he can, working the wad of cloth out of his mouth with his tongue, earning a grunt of annoyance from me as I scratch the bridge of my nose with my knife. “I ain’t never did nothing to them! They disappeared!”

Crying. Now he’s crying. But his crocodile tears aren’t going to get him anywhere with me. “You drugged Deric Mendez and strangled him, left his body in the Everglades. Olivia Wassersen, raped and shoved into a drain pipe after you slit her throat but none of that, none of it, compared to what you did to Paul Volia. It took me almost a week to find the tiny bits of his body that the gators didn’t get to that you tossed to them in the hope they’d cover up what you did to him. You are a sick, sick man.”

“Fuck you! I never touched any of them!” 

“You know, a lesser man might be convinced, Mike, but I’m not because I am anything but a lesser man. I don’t operate within the laws of this society or of the police. I don’t need a warrant or a court order to gather my evidence. I certainly don’t need some sloppy disposal to get rid of those I kill.”

“I-I’ll call the fucking cops! I’ll get your ass locked up in jail for the rest of your fucking pathetic life!” Ah, the return of bravado.

“Mmmmaybe if I let you live you could do that, but this is your final trip around the bases tonight, coach.” I stand up from the bench and set the knife down, pulling a scalpel from its tiny little pocket inside my kit, drawing it effortlessly across his cheek. One carefully made blood slide later and he’s staring up at me as I grab the knife once more but I hesitate, the tip of the blade hovering over his chest. “I don’t normally do this, but I’ve been having some trouble...thinking, lately. Why do you kill?”

“I told you I haven’t killed-“ His words cut off as I drove the knife into his thigh, earning a scream that reverberates around the dark, tiled room. Sloppy of me, I don’t usually do this...

“I asked you a question. Why. Do. You. Kill? The next stab will hit something a bit more sensitive and we’ll keep going until you give me an honest answer or you bleed out.”

“Alright! Alright, alright fine...have you ever been rejected?”

“If you’re about to tell me you killed those kids because they rejected you I’m going to cut off something significantly precious to you and make you eat it.”

“Then you may as well just kill me. You have no idea what it’s like to love someone, truly love someone and have them reject it!” Why am I hesitating? I should be working through this idiot’s spine with a bone saw by now...so why am I hesitating? Is it because of Deb? 

“Explain. The longer you talk the longer you stay alive.”

“O-Okay...I went to them, told them how I felt! But it was wrong and gross to them! They rejected me for my love and they pushed me away! Then I see them walking around the halls with their little boyfriends and girlfriends and it made me sick! It made me hate them as much as I loved them...”

“I do understand actually.” I feel a bit of an odd smirk cross my lips. “My sister and I have a similar issue.”

“See, so you understand rejection?”

“Not me. I rejected my feelings for her and hers for me.” I can’t seriously be thinking about this right now? This isn’t therapy...but my Dark Passenger is quiet, listening. 

“So...so you’re going to let me live?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a pedophile and a murderer. You’re a special kind of monster.”

“But you’re going to kill me?! You’re no better than I am!” I’m tired of this conversation. I swing the blade down into his chest, my other hand covers his mouth to muffle the scream as his heart slows to pump it’s final few times. 

“I’m nothing like you.” His eyes widen as his mind processes what just happened to him, the soft rhythm of his heart slowing with each passing second until the handle of my knife goes still. I pull the bone saw from my side table and sniffle, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “I’m a monster, but I’m a very neat monster. But not to Deb...”

I shake away the thoughts and begin my work, the bone saw gliding through the skin of my new friend as blood spills to the floor.

-

“Hey Dex.” Vince Masuka. I’m somewhat fond of my coworkers but now is not the time, not with everything I have going on in the world. “Did you get that analysis back from the lab yet? Your sister’s riding me for it and not in the good way.”

He’s made this joke a thousand times, why am I getting angry over it? It’s...irrational. I don’t get irrational, I can’t afford it.

“Not yet. And hey, that’s my sister. Mind cutting it back with the sex jokes?” Vince blinks a few times but shrugs. I smile hollowly and make my way into my tiny little room and sit on my stool overlooking the department. I see Deb step out of her office and motion at me. A summons from the almighty sister. I stand with a smile and head out and over to her office, sitting down as she closes the door and shuts the blinds. I can hear her hands shaking and the ragged breathing. 

“Dex...fuck I hate this.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything! Fucking everything is wrong. I keep dreaming about LaGuerta, how you set her up....how...how I killed her and helped you cover it up. I’m the fucking lieutenant of fucking homicide and I helped my goddamn brother cover up not just one murder but dozens of murders and killed an innocent person my-fucking-self.” Debra sits down behind her desk and stares at me but it’s more like she’s...looking right through me. Not much can unnerve me but when Debra looks at me like that, it does a solid job of it. “Maybe I should resign...I can’t keep doing this Dexter.”

“You don’t need to resign, LaGuerta is gone and the Bay Harbor Butcher case is staying closed. There’s no more loose ends.”

“But-“

“Deb, everyone thinks LaGuerta freed Estrada to kill him so she could frame me. Everyone in the department knows I was born Dexter Moser now, but none of that matters because to everyone else I’m just the friendly lab geek that loves his work because it puts the bad guys away.”

“Yeah. And how fucking long before you mess up again? Travis Marshal was just the first but how many more screwups are you going to make that could get you put in the fucking chair and me in prison for fucking life?”

“I’ve had a lot more screwups than just Travis Marshal. He’s just the only one that’s been caught by anyone.” Deb just stares at me for a long moment before she does that little laugh she always does when she’s stressed. 

“How many people have you killed, Dex?”

“Deb-“

“How fucking many?” I lean back into her couch and bring my hands to the top of my head. This is not how I imagined going but that far away look in her eyes is gone. Vague can still be honest, right?

“A lot.”

“Give me a fucking number, Dexter.” I close my eyes and remember every one of my little friends, even the ones I had to sacrifice to make sure Doakes took the fall for me and those between then and now.

“More than a hundred.”

“Jesus horse fucking Christ, Dex. A hundred?!” Her whispered shout does little to ease the anxiety that’s growing. I really wish she wouldn’t do that. “Fucking shit Dex, that’s...that’s a lot of fucking people.”

“I’m aware.”

“That’s gotta be more than-“

“Every other serial killer out there, I’m aware.”

“Who...who was the first?”

“Remember dad’s nurse? The one he wouldn’t let give him painkillers?” Deb nods and leans back in her chair with a scoff. 

“So even back then you only killed people who you think deserved it.”

“It has nothing to do with what I ‘think’. But things have changed since then. I’ve ignored the code more than a few times since dad taught it to me and even killed innocent people...”

“So it’s a lot more than a hundred.”

“Accidents happen.” Deb laughs nervously as the door to her office opens. For the first time since I’ve known him, I’m glad that Quinn is in the department.

“Hey LT, we got a body down at an inn in little Haiti, you wanna come?” Deb shakes her head, and Quinn looks over to me. “You comin’ Wonder Geek? Lots of blood.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Just gotta grab my kit.” Quinn nods and walks away, leaving Deb to return to staring at me.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pull up that mask so quick?”

She’s asking more questions. Whatever happened to the days of just telling me to fuck off? “Just, something dad taught me.”

“You can tell me about it later tonight. I’ll bring steaks.”

I give her a smile, she’s still my sister after all but...why can’t I stop thinking about what Mike Salinas said to me?

-

“So what do we got?” I look over my shoulder to Quinn, giving a fake nervous chuckle. 

“Multiple stab wounds to the neck and chest. You can see from the arterial sprays high up on the wall that the victim was standing when the attack began. The lack of defensive wounds indicates that the attack had sent the victim immediately into shock. Five stab wounds to the stomach, all post-mortem. Each one goes through the body and exits the back, the stab wounds to the neck are all in a downward pattern leading to the front part of the rib cage, indicating the attack must have started from someone standing behind the victim.”

“Any idea who we could be looking for?”

“Crime of passion. These kinds of attacks share that same kind of pattern of brutality. From the lack of forced entry it looks like she either let him in or he had a key. Either way, she would have had to have known the killer.” I pull another long string of red from the floor and connect it to my model stand. It’s always like a beautifully morbid puzzle that I’m putting together, so maybe I shouldn’t do it with a smile.

“Somethin’ funny?”

“Huh?”

“Why the fuck are you smiling? You’re two feet from a woman that was almost disemboweled and you’re fucking smiling?”

“Nnnno. Not disemboweled, not enough stab wounds for that.”

“Don’t get fucking smart with me.” Maybe I could make another exception to the code. He’s starting to sound a little too much like Doakes for my liking.

“Something wrong detective?” Quinn and I look back towards the front door. Almighty Sister Deb to the rescue.

“Nah, just...just asking some questions.” Another hard stare from Quinn and a weak smile back from me. Saved by my sister again, Quinn. 

“Good. You can go help canvas the neighbors then.” Quinn nods and leaves the scene, tossing a dirty look at me from the sun bleached doorway. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like fucking nothing.”

“We’ll talk about it at dinner.” Deb nods giving me a small smile as I return to my work.

-

It’s a good thing that Isaac Sirko left so much of his paperwork behind, it was a treasure trove of possible future targets, admissions from those on his pay roll and best of all, a little dirt on my favorite little alcoholic detective. It saves me a lot of foot work or fabricating evidence. 

Turns out that Quinn was on the payroll too. Overseeing drug deals, making investigations stop during his time in narcotics, but it looks like he never stopped his lucrative little side gig. Shows here that just about a week before Sirko died he oversaw another drug deal between the Koshkas and their dealers, and my little holy grail if he never stops poking around, he made the blood vanish in that Columbian bar I led Sirko into to trap him. 

It would sure be a shame if word got back to my sister that he let a murderer out on the streets by giving his lackeys a heads up that we needed more blood. 

I push the files away from me and sit back in my desk chair, my eyes drifting up to the flowers that Hannah had given me. But it just brings back the memory of how she had escaped, how dangerous she was. Luckily, aconite and borax have something of an odd relationship, processed borax has shown to have a reversing effect on aconite poisoning with mixed results, but thanks to my false identity on a dozen different medical registries and my healthy stock of etorphine, I found just the right mixture to completely reverse the effects of aconite poisoning if it’s administered fast enough. A gift for Deb and myself, I can’t give Hannah another opportunity to kill her. Maybe she does have plastic sheets in her future after all.

A knock at the door draws my attention. I grab the files and hide them away in my desk, putting in the most brotherly of smiles possible as I open the door.

“Hey Deb.” She returns the smile and steps inside. “What kind of steak are we having tonight?”

“Filet fucking mignon.”

“Ooooh. Pricey.” Deb slaps my shoulder. It’s not unusual for her to swing at me but...it’s so much gentler than her normal choice. Why then is it causing this feeling in the pit of my stomach?

“It’s a porterhouse. One for you, one for me. Six pack is for me, scotch is for us. It’ll help me get through all of the shit you’re about to spend all night telling me.” I smile hollowly and take the package of meat from her and start the cooking. Outside of blood spatter and...you know, killing people, cooking steak is apparently one of those skills I just have. “So...whats the deal with this mask dad taught you how to put on?”

I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose. She’s too good at remembering things. I can’t tell if it’s because she’s a woman or if it’s because she’s a cop, but it’s been annoying for years. “When dad started teaching me how to, you know, do what I do, he always told me how important it was to be normal, to blend in. Just being a happy go lucky lab geek is a great way to do that, even better when you work for the cops, you’re beyond reproach to most people.”

“Didn’t really work for Doakes or...” She still can’t say it, which is understandable really, Deb isn’t like me, she’s not a killer.

“Some people can see beyond the mask, see me for what I really am without being absolutely certain. Doakes was the only one who saw me for what I really am with an actual degree of certainty. He was a monster in his own right, the things he did with Special Forces, the horrors he had to deal with in his missions and what he had to do to earn the trust of those people. Anyone else just sees it by accident...but monsters always recognize monsters.”

“Who else?”

“Rita’s ex husband.” Deb looks over to me with curiosity in her eyes. “He threatened to take Cody and Astor away from Rita, said he was going to do whatever he wanted and that ‘that skinny bitch’ wasn’t going to stop him. He got to see my Dark Passenger by chance when I smacked him over the head with a frying pan and dragged him back to his hotel room and made him overdose.” I flip the steaks and pour a small length of bourbon into the pan. I lower the heat and let the garlic bed soak up the spirit as I slowly baste the steaks with the juice mixture at the bottom of the pan. 

“Was he the only one?”

“The only one I didn’t kill.” Deb swears and downs her first beer, quickly opening a second one as I focus on the seasoning of the steaks. “Why do you want to know so much about all of this anyway? I thought you had accepted what I do?”

“Accepting and truly understand isn’t the same fucking thing, Dex.” Of course it isn’t. Worth a shot though. “So...this is all because of what happened to your mother?”

“Yeah, I’d have to say it is. That’s what Harry always taught me-“

“Dad. It’s what dad always taught you.”

“Right.”

“The same thing happened with Rudy-Erm...Brian?”

“He was older than me, he remembered it better than I did. He had a chance to develop into a little more of a normal person than I did.”

“Fucking figures...”

“I regret killing him sometimes.”

“Sure you...wait, you killed Rudy?” I can’t look at her right now. Not with those eyes of hers. All I can do is nod. “Since fucking when?”

I sigh and lean forward over the stove, my head bowed as my hands press firmly into the stove top. “Since the day before you found him in his ice box.”

“Jesus titty fucking Christ, Dex.”

“You know, one of these days all of that blasphemy is going to bite you in the ass-“

“I don’t give a shit about that...why did you kill Rudy?”

“Deb it was almost seven years ago. Knowing isn’t going to bring you closure-“

“I don’t give a fuck about closure, I already had that. Why did you kill your own brother?” Why does she always know the questions to ask that I don’t want to answer? Complete honesty, right?

“Because he was never going to stop coming after you.” I manage to finally look at her and for the first time in my life, I can’t hide the sadness. “I left you at the hospital that night because I was going to trap him. I made him think I had brought you back here and left you in my room. I baited him with the prosthetics he made of your leg.”

“Guess he did good work then.” I can’t help but laugh. “But you killed him...for me?”

“I couldn’t let him hurt you, Deb.”

“Why not? He was real flesh and blood and would have accepted you and understood you-“

“Because I love you, alright?!” She’s shocked, I can see it in her face, but there’s something else there, something that I’ve been avoiding seeing since that night she professed her being in love with me. I understand Mike’s thoughts now, I could never condone what he did, but I understand the effect that unrequited love can wreak on a person and I see the glimmer of hope in Debra’s eyes that I mean something more. But I don’t. Don’t I?

“Yeah, you love a foster sister that keeps dragging you into her bullshit all the time and you fuck up things with because you try to protect her. Rudy could have at least done something against Speltzer, probably could have killed Doakes or Trinity for you...I think you made the wrong choice.”

My body moves on its own, I can’t stop it and again, I’m not in control. I move and close the distance between the two of us, my hand coming up in its own to lift her by the chin so I can look into her tear ridden eyes. I can’t stop myself. What am I doing? My lips press to hers and I can feel her stiffen at the contact. Had my body read this all wrong? Had it just made a mistake that my clearer mind will never be able to undo?

But she relaxes into the kiss, returning it with a fervor as she stands and brings her hands up, one tangling in my hair as the other rests on my cheek. I can’t stop us from moving, our bodies crushing together as my own hands begin to roam her lithe body, one hand dropping to her ass and grabbing her roughly and pulling her tight against me. What am I doing? There’s never been passion like this with Rita or Lila or Lumen...or Hannah.

We stumble slightly as I bump into the dials in the stove, hastily reaching behind me as I turn the dials off before taking a little control, my hands returning to her body as one snakes up to her head and pulls her back sharply by the hair, breaking the kiss.

I stare at her exposed neck, my eyes drawn to the blushing skin and the throbbing carotid artery, the essential vein pumping wildly as her heart races against my chest. I lower my lips to her neck and kiss her, my lips parting just enough to bite at the smooth milky skin, marking her as mine as the other hand moves to her chest, gripping her breast tightly. I can hear her moan out, the hand in my hair pulling my face tighter against her neck as her other hand reaches between us. I can’t tell what she’s doing until I feel her shift slightly. When her hand reaches my pants and starts to struggle to unbutton them, I stop and pull back, the slightest moment of control over my own body.

Deb freezes and moves to look me in the eyes and I just can’t fight it anymore. I let my body take back over, my hands abandoning her body to help her in lowering my own pants. As soon as my pants drop even a little bit, her hand dove into my boxers and grips me in her strong, small hand with an expert pressure. 

“Jesus fuck, Dex.” I can only grunt in response, my hips bucking somewhat at the fiery taboo of it all. She pulls me free of my boxers and begins to stroke my cock, my own hands coming to her sopping apex just beneath her skirt, a soft press of my fingers as I begin playing with her slick folds through her underwear, a barely there thong from the wetness meeting my touch, causes her to cry out, her hand freezing it’s movements as she begins to shudder. “Fucking-fuck don’t stop!”

I couldn’t even if I tried. My Dark Passenger has finally taken something of a backseat as something new roared to life inside of me the moment our lips touched, something primal and untamed that I had never felt before, something just as demented as my other Driver, but so much more...intimate. 

I pull my hand away as she shudders violently , a disappointed mewl leaving her throat as I pull her skirt down a few rugs and lift my foot and use it to push Deb’s skirt further off, leaving her bare to me from the waist down. I push her against the counter and lift her slightly until she’s sitting still perfectly at the right elevation for my hips. I reach down and move her hand away, a soft sigh of protest leaving Debs lips but as I brush the tip against her wetness, her sigh of protest became a gasp of want. 

“Fucking do it, Dex. Fuck me.”

“Deb...” I sound...exposed. Vulnerable. That’s never happened before.

“Please...Dex, fuck me please. Shove that fucking cock inside me right fucking now-AH!” Deb claps her hands over her mouth as I violently thrust inside of her in a single motion, my cock reaching the deepest parts of her as her legs lift involuntarily and begin to shake. “Fuuuuck....Wait, fuck fuck, wait! Harrison!”

“In Orlando with Jaime.” How I managed to answer I have no idea, but my new Primal Passenger knows what he’s doing. 

My hands drop to her hips, pulling us apart as my thrusts continue deeply, my cock pressing into her deepest reaches as our hips meet wetly and very loudly. Her legs have wrapped around my waist now and I can’t hold back any more. My mind is a pink haze of lust, my body is moving like a machine and I can’t stop myself. I don’t want to stop myself.

Deb reaches for my chest and pulls my shirt up, urging me to take it off and I allow her to pull it off of me, keeping my thrusts shallow and soft as she does. Once it’s thrown at my feet, I do the same to her, pulling her shirt up until she’s almost totally bare before me, only a tight fitting sports bra holding her breasts back separates our full tumble into this taboo world. But I want it off, I want those barriers gone. She sees me staring and pulls it off over her head and throws it somewhere behind me.

I always knew Deb was slightly thin. She certainly had what you could call a runner’s body; her legs were strong and toned, her body was made up of wiry muscle that has become slightly less defined than it once was because she’s no longer going out to every case possible and spends more time behind her desk, but good...deity, her body is intoxicating, it’s giving me the same thrill that I would get from the hunt of and dispatching of a new victim. 

I pull her tight to me and bury myself inside of her, her hands immediately come to my back and scratch deep as her nails dig into my skin and leave marks all of the way down to my waist. I can feel the warm trickle of blood but I couldn’t care less if I tried. I lift her against me and carry her to the bedroom, not even kicking the door shut as we tumble into the bed and I begin thrusting inside of her again, our lips pressed together in a hazy lust drenched laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own Dexter, Jeff Lindsay does and everyone he sold a license to, I’m just here to have fun and entertain people.

Two weeks. It’s been two long weeks since Deb and I...did that, and she’s been avoiding me in person when we’re not at work and expected to behave like nothing has changed between us. We still talk on the phone for things not work related, but sometimes it just feels like something has changed, something besides the obvious. Maybe she realized that it wasn’t actually love, maybe now I’m going to be the one with unrequited feelings, which would be something new and entirely unwanted. I watch her walk across the room and dip into her office. She sees me looking at her out of the corner of her eye and motions for me to come.

Wouldn’t be the first time...or the seventh.

I walk casually to her office and close the door behind me, sitting down with a sigh and a smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Definitely not awkward at all.

“Look, I’m sorry for being so distant the last two weeks it’s just...” She looks out into the room behind me and laughs nervously. “I’m just really sore.”

“Sore?”

“Has no one ever told you about...you know?” Deb, as discretely as she could, held her hands apart a respectable distance, or at least that’s what I’ve been lead to believe would be respectable by nearly every needlessly self-conscious person.

“Uh, not really, no. I mean, Mindy Falcester in high school did, but-“

“Wait, that chick who transferred in from Catholic school when we’re in middle school? Super fucking Virgin Mary reborn Mindy Falcester?”

“I guess? I mean, we did something when we were freshmen because dad said it was something normal people did.” I answered. I pointedly refuse to point out her blasphemy. 

“Dex we are a lot of things but fucking normal isn’t one of them.” I chuckle nervously and bow my head, staring intently at my hands. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I acting like some blushing teenager who just saw their first boob? “So, want to do dinner tonight? I can bring steaks and we can not eat them again.”

Deb smiles in a predatory way, I should know, I’ve worn the same smile when vetting my victims. 

“I can’t wait.” And I really can’t. Even my body reacting is proof of that but even my Primal Passenger isn’t the one reacting, I am...is that why my heart is beating so hard?

“Hey Dex, sexy LT, we got a body.” Dammit Vince. “Quinn is going to meet us down there, he said Dex needs to come and see it personally.”

“Why personally?”

“Don’t shoot they messenger, my people have enough trouble with that already.” Vince walks away and leaves the door open, causing Deb to roll her eyes. 

“What kind of Asian is he anyways?”

“Uh not really sure, but I better get down there. I’ll see you tonight?”

“With bells on and panties off.” She says it just quiet enough for me to hear her but she flips me the bird as I turn back to look at her. Leave it to Debra to leave me uncomfortably aroused.

-

“Super perv. Super geek.” Fuck you too, Quinn. “We got a body but no blood.”

“Why did you want me down here then? I’m just the blood guy-“

“Calm yer fuckin’ tits and just come look.” I have to fight back the growl of anger but I manage a smile as he leads us past the police tape and down to the beach front and my heart slows. Arlene Schram. Hannah’s friend that helped her almost commit suicide and facilitated her escape from police custody. She was also the only witness to a murder she committed at a half-way house. That victim ends with Hannah now since I made sure all of the information from Sal was deleted. 

“See why I asked that you personally come down, Dexter? Looks like your little jail bird lover is back to her old ways.”

“She’s not my lover. Not anymore.” I answer As I stoop over Arlene’s body. She also won’t be alive anymore once I find her again. She’s tying up loose ends, I know where those ends will lead her, right back to me...and Deb. 

“Any input on how she died?” I can see the purple stain on her lips as clear as anyone else can. Dyed aconite extract, a little hard to tell, but the drying of the membranes at inside of the lip is a give away. Definitely Hannah’s work. 

“Aconitine poisoning. The purple stain on her lower lip suggests ingestion sometime in the last six hours. Possibly mixed in with a drink.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“The petechial hemorrhaging in her eyes suggests suffocation, but the lividity suggests internal bleeding consistent with an internal hemorrhage due to a complication from arrythmogenic cardiomyopathy.”

“Wanna try explaining all of that in smaller words, Wonder Dork?”

“Uhm...” Damn Quinn and his barely third grade education, “she ingested aconite and when it started to poison her the effects on her heart caused a...pressure to build and caused her heart to burst.” 

“Well. Looks like you sure chose a winner to fuck, eh Dex?” You’re heading towards a reservation with my table, Quinn. “Get the report written up, we’ll tack another face to the victim board for the Aconite Queen. Maybe Dexter here can keep his dick in his pants for once and we can catch this bitch.” Quinn snarled as he walked away.

“Jeez, what crawled up his dick hole and died?” I give Vince a fake laugh and start to jot down the notes on the scene. I’ll need for the report. And for my own needs.

-

“Hey Dex.” Not even in the door for two seconds and she kissed me and grabbed my crotch. I never used to understand the whole sexual attraction thing. It used to seem indecent, unnatural but just that passing graze from my sister and what could be construed as an innocent sibling kiss had changed my mind. Luckily Jaime is still out in Orlando for a few days longer, we won’t be bothered...though my neighbors might, Deb is a bit of screamer.

I close the door behind her, stumbling back as she catches me off guard with another kiss, this one was definitely not one shared between siblings; it was hot and full of a fiery passion that brought my new Primal Passenger banging on the door to my mind. My hands move to the hem of her skirt, the one small change she had made to seem more like a lieutenant, and I drag my hands up her strong thighs, smirking hotly as my hand encounters her bare ass. We kiss once more but I force the Primal Passenger back.

“Hang on Deb, we have a few things to talk about first.”

“If it’s about if I shaved or not, the answers yes.” She winks at me, almost as if this is the most natural thing in the world, as if we hadn’t spent more than thirty years as siblings. I find it just as hard to remember that past as it is. 

“Just act like everything is normal for a second. And You were fine last time, Deb.”

“Yeah, but I’m not fucking normal, neither are you. Besides, I doubt you want to be eating and flossing your teeth at the same time.” Deb smiles coyly and licks her upper lip. Damn it Deb...

“True.” I sigh and swallow thickly, sitting down at the apartment bar. “Hannah killed Arlene Schram.”

“Yeah, Quinn briefed me on it.”

“You know what I have to do then, right?”

“She’s finally earned a place on your table?” I nod silently, my eyes drifting towards the wall-mounted AC unit. “If anyone deserves it, it’s her.”

“I’ve killed plenty of deserving people, Deb. Almost all of them deserving in one way or another. I just have to find her first.” Deb pauses in her answer as a knock sounds at the door. We both stare at it as the sound echoes in the silent apartment. “Who is it?”

“It’s...it’s Hannah.” I look up at Deb and motion for her to hide. She darts out of my line of sight as I stow the beer and steaks in the fridge, not even bothering to remove them from the paper bag. 

“Give me a second, I’m just finishing a few things.” I scrambled inside of my utensil drawer and pull out a small black case, withdrawing the etorphine stored inside. I slide it inside of my sleeve and walk forward to answer the door. There she is, in all of her honey-haired glory, Hannah McKay. If I were religious I would believe in serendipity or divine intervention.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” 

“Can I...can I come in or do you want me to stay out here all night.” She’s wearing that adorable little smile that used to make my heart flutter...but it’s silent now, and the Dark Passenger is readying to take the wheel. 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Hannah scoffs and looks into my eyes.

“What’s the real reason you don’t want me inside Dexter.”

“Hannah...”

“Is this still all about Deb again?” I’m usually pretty good with a poker face, but Hannah was always able to see right through it, is still able to see right through it. “Jesus Christ, Dexter, I didn’t try to kill her. Now will you let me in?”

I want to protest, but she pushes her way past me. I look out around the cat walk outside of my apartment complex. Fingers crossed Quinn doesn’t try to spy on my house like his buddy did. I turn to look at Hannah, but i can’t even react before I feel the syringe as it pushes inside of my neck. My vision becomes blurry as I drop to the ground, my chest constricting like a boa has me wrapped in its death grip. 

I can hear the shouting and a gun shot, but the edges of my already blurry vision are darkening and I can’t breathe. The last thing I see as the shadows close in is Deb kneeling beside me, and then the world goes dark.

-

“You need to learn who to trust, Dexter.” Harry says as he sharpens a knife against the wet stone in our garage. I had gone overboard during our last ‘trip’ and put more than a few nicks in the edge. “Trusting the wrong people will lead you down a path where you can be found out for what you really are or puts those you love in danger.”

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with wanting some of the guys from school to come hunting with us-“

“These are no regular hunting trips, Dexter.” Hsrry holds the damaged knife up, looking at the nicks in the blade. “You think your friends will remember years from now just a happy little hunting trip or will they remember how you killed a deer and ruined the meat because you got carried away with your...urges?”

I know the answer to that; they would turn away from me, they would remember what I was like, remember the Darkness. 

“You have to remember Dexter, trust is a touchy thing. Give a measure but never give all of it to the people not close to your heart.”

“That would be easier to know if I had one.”

“You do have one Dex. When the times are getting too hard, always remember, your family is your heart. If I’m gone, then Deb will be your family, she’ll be the one to protect your heart. You can’t really ever trust anyone else.”

-

Pain. That’s all I can feel in my body, an overwhelming, nearly insurmountable amount of agonizing pain. It I had to describe it further than that, I would have to say I understand how people being run over must feel, or the way my victims die when I don’t go the easy way in disposing them.

“Hey you. You’re finally awake.” I try to open my eyes, to look up into the caring face of Debra, but it feels like they’re made of led. “The uh...the doctors said there might be some residual stiffness. Luckily you had some more of that borax stuff in your house, thank fuck for that.”

“What happened?”

“Hannah, she...she injected you with that fucking aconite shit. I heard you fall down and took a shot at her. I got her in the fucking shoulder but she managed to get away.”

“How did you get the right amount of processed borax into a syringe?”

“There’s a right amount?” I swallow and grunt in pain, just because a laugh is completely impossible right now. “I just grabbed that little glass thing you had in your desk and a syringe and shoved into that big vein in your neck.”

“I’m surprised I’m not dead then.” I can hear her watery laugh, the clear sign she’s been crying so long she’s basically waterlogged. I reach out blindly with a hand and feel her own much smaller and grab it, a warmth spreading up my arm. “I’ll be alright Deb.”

“Heya Dex.” Vince. Of all of the times to have him visit. “I got you some smelling salts. Should help wake you up a bit.”

I can hear Deb snatch the bag away and fumbled with the plastic wrapper to fish one out. She holds it a few inches from my face and cracks it and my eyes slowly start to open. The light burns my eyes, but with how Deb is leaning over me, it frames her head perfectly giving her hair a halo effect. If I believed in heaven I would swear an angel was in her place...but it’s still just Deb...same thing really.

“Thank fuck that actually worked.” She throws the little capsule at Vince who catches at fumbling for a second. “Better?”

“Much.” I manage a weak smile and see more than just Masouka; Bautista is there, so is Jaime, Harrison in her arms. “Quite the homecoming.”

A nervous rift of laughter comes from the small group. The main surprise is that it seems I was put into a private room, two uniforms standing at the door.

“Harrison.” I smile at my son and get one in return from the happy little boy.

“Dexter, we have to talk about Harrison...” I hate the sound of that. “Gail wants you to sign over custody of Harrison until Hannah gets caught. She knows you’re a target but she doesn’t want him to get caught in the crossfire.”

I once thought Rita’s mother was intelligent. I’m seriously beginning to doubt that.

“No-“

“Dexter, she’s not giving you an option. She filed a petition with child protective services saying that Miami just isn’t safe for him right now given your relationship with Hannah and the fact that she’s a killer on the run.” Deb chimes in. I grip her hand slightly tighter as I look to my baby boy in Jaime’s arms. She seems to take the message as she steps forward and lays my son down in my chest. I feel...loss. He’s not even gone yet and I feel like a part of me has been ripped away. I bring my hand to his sandy-blond hair as a tear rolls down my cheek. Masouka and Bautista take the silent cue and leave the room with Jaime in tow, giving me a moment of peace with my son.

If I kill Hannah, she’ll never be caught and I’ll never get Harrison back. If don’t kill her, she’ll keep coming back after Deb and me. If I turn her in, she’ll find another way to escape or worse, expose me for what I truly am. I’ve always been so careful about not getting into a situation where I can’t win...but here I am. I look up to Deb and she squeezes my hand back, a deep frown on her face.

“I’m not letting her go free.”

“Dex-“

“No. I have to do what’s right for my son. I have to protect you and myself. The only way I can do that is by making sure she’s...taken care of.” I look up to Jaime and offer her a weak smile.

“I support whatever you want to do. I’ll help you get Harrison back once she’s dealt with. I have a few contacts in the courts that can give us a hand from my days back in vice. On one condition.” I look back to Harrison, his sky blue eyes looking back up at me. “You have to let me help.”

“Deb-“

“I’m already involved in this so that isn’t an excuse. She’s tried to kill me already and now she’s trying to take away the person I love more than anything in the world. You can either let me help or I go and find her myself and do it on my own.”

I can see it in her eyes, she really means it. Even so soon after she killed LaGuerta, she has no problem doing it again to protect me, to help protect Harrison. ‘I don’t have feelings for anything but If I did I would have them for Deb.’ It seems like so long ago that I admitted that to myself. It’s almost surreal that it’s become a real thing now.

I look into her eyes and smile. “Together.”

-

It’s been a week since Harrison was taken to Orlando, a week since I signed the paperwork to hand my son over to Gail. The only positive is that he’s with his brother and sister. I sent Jaime with them with a little bump in pay, helped by Deb’s own contribution to stay with them. I need a completely clear mind to hunt like I used to. To let the Dark Passenger take the wheel again.

It’s no longer an excuse, it’s no longer a lie I tell to absolve myself of responsibility for what I do; I can feel the difference, how the blood fills my empty spots and takes me into the shadows. My senses are stronger, I can almost smell the guilt on the people around me, feel their hidden secrets bubbling just under the surface. 

I can see them for what they truly are. Because I’m just like they are in a way. Hannah will have to wait until she’s foolish enough to resurface, for now, I have another target. Sean McConroy. Former caregiver for the mentally incapacitated and handicapped, he took into it his own hands to shuffle them loose the mortal coil, I just need the proof. 

I watch as he leaves his home, watching him as he not too secretly stows a spare key under his mat. An old paneled station wagon. A choice of transportation he has in common with my long dead brother when he was hunting. Somewhat ironic. He drives away none the wiser that he’s not only being watched but that his own days in this earth are numbered. 

I pull on my black leather gloves and quickly and carefully stalk up to his door. I grab his key from under the mat and unlock the door, sliding inside before anyone can see me. 

It takes me almost twenty minutes to find any proof of his wrong doings, for the briefest of moments, I think I have the wrong man, that I had made a mistake. But I’m right. I find all of the proof I need in his bedroom side table: An innocuous bag of teeth. Disturbingly close to Walter Kenny. Maybe I need to do a little more research into Mr. McConroy. 

A short search of the rest of his room, each of his drawers were clear but in a small shoe box in his closet is months worth of clippings. You’re an interesting creature, McConroy. Teeth in a box and clippings to remember your kills. Sloppy work.

I close the box back up and put it back in it’s place and make my way into his bathroom to find a brush forgotten behind a toilet, plenty of samples to find one with DNA still on it, all I need to find out exactly who he is. After some difficulty, I manage to pull the brush clean, with more than a few roots present. I push the clumps of hair into a plastic bag and shove the small bag into my back pocket, throwing the brush back into its place as I move back to the front of the house. 

It’s just a matter of time.

-

A hooker? I would have assumed someone a bit different as a victim for McConroy. I watch as she slips into his car and they drive off, me in tow with a car from the impound lots. No one will notice or remember me.

I did my research on you, Mr. McConroy. Put up for adoption by Walter and Marie Kenny in 1978, taken on by Albert and Sharron McConroy, sought out his father in the mid 80s and was turned away by him to protect him from the truth; that his father was the infamous Tooth Fairy Killer. But you figured it out, didn’t you? You learned what your father was. Do I ever have to worry about Harrison finding out what I really am? 

First kill was a Girl Scout that had went missing while on sales rounds to hock the cookies she was selling for a fund raiser. He was never connected to the crime in any way, but one of the girl’s front teeth had been knocked out after she had been beaten to death, matching one of the teeth in his own little collection. Like father like son. Do I have to worry about Harrison?

They pull off behind a building and I slow down to keep my distance. If he’s looking for another kill so soon, he’s certainly not following his father’s pattern. His need is more prevalent, more demanding. 

The minutes tick by but there’s no sign that he’s given in to his own Dark Passenger. No screaming, no cries for help. Just as I start thinking over it the hooker walks out from behind the building, her overly manicured nails wiping at the corners of her mouth, her hair a wild mess. Maybe he wasn’t going to kill the working girl, maybe he has slightly higher standards than I gave him credit for. 

As the girl walks around a far corner I get out of my car and slink over to the side of the building, the syringe of etorphine waiting in my fingers. 

-

“Wh-Where am I?”

“I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not.” I draw the scalpel from my kit and draw it across his cheek, ignoring the scream from McConroy. “You’ve been very busy the last few years.”

He manages to look out of the corner of his eye from his immobilized position, the pictures of his victims stapled to the wall of his living room. 

“I couldn’t help myself.”

“What a pathetic excuse.” On some level, I can relate, I can understand what he feels and how he feels...but I could never target those he’s killed. “Alice Simmons. Thirteen years old went missing while trying to sell Girl Scout cookies to raise money for a trip. Anastasia Brookes, Catholic school student, selling brownies was kidnapped, raped and beaten to death with a pipe. Peter Moreau, a homeless boy that you abducted off of the streets and sodomized with a machete. I thought I was a monster, but you, you make your father look like an angel, even though the only thing you took from him was his penchant for taking your victim’s teeth.”

“M-My father?”

“Don’t play stupid. I’ve done my research on you, Sean Kenny. I also know these weren’t your first victims, there were more. You had eleven teeth in your little momento box, these are the only three you kept clippings of. They must have been special for you.” I smile as I take a few lengths of his blood and make a slide, my own little trophy to remember our time together. “Want to explain why you did it?”

“Fuck you!” I can’t help but laugh at him; his father was significantly more talkative.

“That’s a shame. But don’t worry, I’ll be reuniting you with your father soon enough.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” I smile down at the blade in my hand as I come to his side. I grab his face and force him to look into my eyes. That look of terror, the realization that his life is about to end, is intoxicating.

“I killed him too. I couldn’t let your father carry on killing people in my city. Take some solace, you and your father both end in the same way.”

He wants to scream, to shout at me and damn me for what I did to his father, but I don’t give him the chance as I drive the blade down into his chest, my fingers tightly clasped over the handle of the blade. I can feel his heart slowing through vibrations on the metal. The feeling is euphoric. The flood is stopped and my Dark Passenger is sated. 

I pull the knife out of his chest and watch the crimson flow out around him, his eyes open wide in shock for the rest of eternity. As I drop my knife back into my kit, I pull the bone saw free and set to work cutting through joints, tendons and bone. 

I’ll be sure to drop him in the same spot I dropped his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I sent Harrison away along with Jaime but that’s simply because I don’t know enough about Jaime’s character outside of she was banging a game designer that was obsessed with Dexter, she’s Angel’s sister or whatever and she’s Harrison’s babysitter. 
> 
> I sent Harrison away because I don’t know how to write toddlers. 
> 
> I brought up the Tooth-Fairy Killer’s son because it provides an insight that Dexter only really touched upon of the evils of the father being imposed on the child. 
> 
> Not the best chapter, but I’m happy with it. Hopefully those of you who are reading this will be as well


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still own nothing. I am but a fan who writes for fun

“It’s Dexter!” I miss those voices. I never thought I would feel a real connection to anyone but Deb or...Hannah, but hearing Cody be so excited to see me makes my heart feel warm. The door opens up and Gail is there with a fake smile. I’ve put one on so many times I can see them when people put them on as clearly as I can see my own reflection in a mirror. 

“Dexter.”

“Hey Gail. I just figured I would stop by and see the kids.”

“Just in the neighborhood, huh? Three and half hours away from Miami.” I give her a small laugh but she just rolls her eyes and steps to the side, allowing me in. Almost as soon as I’m through the door, a small body runs into me and throws its arms around my waist, another following it immediately around my leg. 

“Dexter!” “Daddy!”

I can’t help but genuinely smile as I pat Cody on the head and reach down to ruffle Harrison’s hair. I hear the soft laugh from the living room in front of me and I look up to see Astor smiling warmly at the scene.

“I told you Harrison just follows Cody around. Those two are basically inseparable.” She stands and comes over to give me a quick teenager hug, just the one arm and extremely fast, as if it’s embarrassing to show emotion. I hated those days from my own youth, having to pretend to hide emotions I didn’t have. It’s good to see some things never change. 

“Have they been behaving?”

“I dunno. I guess so.”

“Have you?” She knows exactly what I’m talking about, the nervous glance towards her grandmother is the sure sign of that. 

“I’ve been trying my best.” I nod and the five of us make our way into the living room. I barely even sit down before Harrison climbs up into my lap and lays against my chest. I feel...normal. Cody sits right next to me and leans into me As he grabs his little game system off of the table and resumes whatever game he was playing. “How’s Lumen?”

“She uh, she went back home. I finished helping her and she just...decided it was time for her to go.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. She found her way, I just did what I could.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Part of her. But she had to move on to do what was right for her.” Truthfully, I don’t. After everything with Hannah and now whatever I have going on with Deb, I don’t know how I feel anymore. 

“So, Dexter.” The mother again. “How are things down in Miami?”

“Busy. You know how Miami is.” Gail nods and holds out a cup for me. Without waking the now sleeping Harrison, I take the cup with a weak smile.

“I do. Any information on Hannah?” I throw a nervous look towards Astor as Cody shifts next to me.

“You have another girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend Astor...not anymore. The police are looking for her, she tried to kill your aunt Deb.” Astor nods but still looks somewhat angry. “And no, no news yet.”

“Let’s hope they find her then. Are you staying for dinner, Dexter?”

-

“How’re the kids?” Deb came by again tonight a smile on her face and a pleated skirt on like she made a habit of wearing in school. Even then when I didn’t know what these feelings for her meant, her legs always drew my attention.

“Good. Astor’s doing well in school, honor roll again. Cody is having his troubles with math again but Gail hired a tutor for him.”

“That same one Rita hired?”

“Uh...different guy this time. Much better at his job apparently.” This feels...natural. Like it was just something that had been meant to happen. Talking with Deb has always been easy, even when it was about things that were sometimes taboo, given her stint in vice. At least until recently, taboo has become the bread and butter of the two of us so I don’t know if it really qualifies for that any longer. “How was work today?”

“Same fucking shit, different day. Masouka and his dirty jokes towards one of my vice girls, Bautista came out of retirement to help them out with the Hannah case and we may have a lead on her.”

“That’s good then. Maybe you can finally put her behind bars.” I say sarcastically, knowing she’ll never see the inside of a cell.

“Anonymous tip came in directly to the station. Someone saw the cunt hiding out in little Haiti. Nothing is on the books. We have an address though.” I look over toward Deb as she shoves me gently a smirk on her face. “We can talk a little more about it at work tomorrow.”

“Uh...sure. I would say we keep it under wraps though. Is there anything in that area aside from where she is?”

“There’s a bed and breakfast with some pretty loose security.” I nod and pop a chunk of steak into my mouth. I take a short swig of the whiskey Deb bought us, it seems to make our new nearly nightly activities easy to handle. “Just don’t fuck it up this time.”

“You know, you’re going to come with me-“

“I thought we do that often enough as it is.” I’ve never had to use a deadpan stare with Deb before, but her comments remind me of Vince too much some times. 

“Deb, maybe we should...talk a little.”

“Breaking up with me already, Dex?”

“No, and I don’t ever intend to. I mean about us. You seem to be adjusting to it very well. No hang ups over it, nothing on your mind you want to talk about when it comes to us?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so fucking curious.”

“Because I love you Deb. We were siblings for thirty years, it can’t be that easy to just bury all of that so quickly.”

“It’s a lot easier than you think. I just look at us as if we were childhood friends that really grew up together. Makes it all a lot easier to swallow...which is not easy by the way.” Deb winks and I feel my cheeks burn...since when does that ever happen? I’ve never blushed before. “So, I’m pooped. Ready for bed?”

“Deb it’s...” I check my watch and can’t help but laugh. “It’s only seven at night.”

“I know.” Without another word, or another cut of her steak, Deb stands up and peels off her skirt and shakes her tight ass at me as she walks away, her shirt following quickly after and I can’t stop looking at her body as she pulls her blouse open and tosses it over her shoulder. 

I swallow thickly and follow after her, my own shirt joining hers as I dip into the bedroom and kick the door closed behind me.

-

“Hey Dex, is your sister alright?” Not now Masouka. “I only ask because she actually seems normal. No more deeply depressed, long suffering crap. Almost like she’s finally getting a good lay for a change.”

She did mention that this morning after we enjoyed a shower together. 

“I uh, guess maybe she’s just making peace with things.” Or enjoying a soreness you can’t get from the gym. 

“Yeah, maybe that’s it. Still has that post-bone glow, know what I mean?” I give Masouka a nod as he moves over to his work station, closing the door behind him with a smile. Finally, some peace and quiet. I look down at the spatter report and sigh. I would have really liked this one for my table. Six trials all ending because the surviving victims recanted and mistrials were declared. A poor justice system let him back out on the streets with little to nothing to stop him from taking the lives of over thirty people.

I know I really am in no position to judge, not with how many people I’ve killed, but unlike this particular person, I don’t target innocent women.

Hannah has to wait, not that I have many other options if I have to be honest. The area in little Haiti is densely populated, that makes it too dangerous for me to dose her and get her out to my car, far too easy to be seen. Until she leaves her hide away, I can’t do anything to correct a mistake I never should have made.

For now, you’re in my sights, Ivan Diaz. You got off from a murder charge due to a slip in the system and ever since my little talk with Deb, it wasn’t a slip on my side of things. A Cuban immigrant that cane through in the 80s as part of the Marielito boatlift. Since he was an immigrant from Cuba that survived the passage from his native country to the shores of sunny Miami, Diaz seems to have found it hard to let old habits die off. 

His most recent victim, Marie Hemler, descendant of German immigrants, volunteer at the local homeless shelter and an English teacher at Cutler Bay Middle School, one of the worst schools in Miami. All reports is that she was an excellent teacher, even from her trouble students which also happened to be her entire class. 

Diaz broke into her house in the middle of the night and slashed her to death with a butcher’s knife that he took out of the knife block in her own kitchen. 

The slip that let him loose on the streets again where he racked up another five attempted murder charges, all linked back to the same judge that let him go. If only this judge had a dirty little secret in the form of bodies, I could remove him from the equation as well.

“Hey, Dex, got a minute?” I nod and look up to Deb as she breathes shakily, a small length of paper in her hands. “I just wanted to give you this.”

I frown slightly but look down at the note as I unfold it; an address is written down with a time and a date on it.

“Deb, what is this?”

“The holy fucking grail Dex. It’s her. She’s going to be there at eight tonight and it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“This sounds like a trap, Deb. If we both show up, it could be exactly what She wants us to do.”

“I thought about that and I have a plan if it is. We’re both going and this is how it’s going to end.” Deb motions for me to flip the note over as she explains her self-termed ‘Deborah’s Diabolical Plan’, the words on it makes my blood run colder than usual: Quinn is suspicious of you. I guess Sirko’s files are going to come in handy after all, just a few anonymous tips and leaving the files on the front door and Quinn is a problem no more. But there’s more pressing things to worry about.

“Alright. We just have to be careful.” Deb nods and gives a quick look around the office outside of my windows as she reaches down and grabs my hand. She winks at me and that’s my signal to act natural. She moves our hands until they slide up under her skirt and I meet bare, slick flesh. Years of training to act normal really have come in handy, but it’s difficult, even more difficult than it is to slide a finger inside of her discreetly, but I manage.

I slowly move the finger in and out until she pulls my hand away and moves back towards the door.

“Pick me up a little early? No need to rush.” I give her a nod and look out into the office. Quinn is staring directly at me, just like how Doakes used to. The difference is that this time, I won’t be locking you in a cabin in a swamp, I’ll putting you behind bars. 

-

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Dexter. Is super cop coming too, or is this like one of our old intimate encounters.” Hannah turns her head to look at me over her shoulder, she quickly spots my hands in my pockets. “Aw, did you bring some of that tranquilizer for me? It’s funny what you can find in a person’s home when they aren’t keeping a close eye on you.”

“Why are you doing this, Hannah? You try to kill Deb, you kill Arlene Schram and then you try to kill me. What’s your end game here?”

“I would have thought that was fairly obvious. Haven’t you ever seen any romance movie ever? You’re way too close to your sister and I wanted you all to myself. We could have been happy, Dexter, but you went and sold me out to your bitch sister and almost had me put away for life.” I shift slightly as she turns to face me fully, her hands covered with plastic gloves, not too unlike the kind I have stored away for my special play dates. “So here we are. What happens next? Does your sister kick in the door with the cavalry? Do I get taken to court again, sentenced and escape the same way? Which is it, Dexter?”

I take a few steps forward and smile as I pull my empty hands out of my pocket. “None of the above.”

Deb steps out from the shadows behind a Hannah and shoves a needle full of etorphine into her slender neck, not even bothering to catch her as her head bounces off of the concrete floor.

“That was fucking easy.”

“Usually is. Whenever people go on little tangents it draws their attention away from their surroundings, makes them vulnerable as their mind is focused on other things.” I close the distance between the two of us and pull Hannah up onto my shoulder. I take a few steps and drop her into the table she was standing in front of. “How do you want to do it?”

“We’re not doing this your usual way?”

“No, it’s too risky. I’ll be the first person they come to if she comes up missing from that place in little Haiti if they report that she’s gone. Can’t take a trophy either.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

“Aconite? It would be poetic wouldn’t it?”

“I’d rather make her overdose on Zoloft.” I shake my head at it, those drugs always show up on toxicology, Aconite is simple. Clean. “Fuck it, whatever you think is best.”

“Alright. Uh...grab that plant, with gloves on, and take the root out and cut it off.”

“Fucking why, I’m not a gardener.”

“The root of aconite is probably the most toxic part of the entire plant. You do that, I’m going to get some water and something to boil it in.”

“Fucking what? Why?”

-

“I can’t believe you know how to make fucking tea.” I roll my eyes and continue crushing the aconite root with the butt of one of Hannah’s tools. “What other stupid talents do you have hidden in that head of yours?”

“Uh...Harry always told me that I have some skill when it comes to fishing. Not sure why, it’s not like it’s difficult to fish. You just throw the line out and wait for something to bite.” Deb laughs and looks back at Hannah. “You know I’m not letting you in on a kill again, right?”

“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that. I was afraid you were going to show up with that stupid rubber apron and the rolling accordion full of fucking knives.” I chuckle slightly and grab the metal bucket the water was boiling in. I pour a cup of the water and slowly shovel the crushed aconite root into it, stirring it with a garden spike. “It done?”

“Yeah, all done. Just gotta make her drink it now.” Deb and I get up and round on Hannah’s body. I carefully kneel down beside her and pry her mouth open. I want to pour the tea in, to end this once and for all, but I pause. Not out of care for Hannah, but for Deb. I look up to see her with an almost hungry expression, she’s urging me to do it, to end her life and stop her from hurting anyone else. Our eyes meet and I nod, reaching out to take her hands in mine as I immediately go back on my word to not have her involved, leading her to kneel down with me. We nod at each other and slowly begin to empty the cup of aconite tea into Hannah’s mouth. The crushed root is the primary ingredient as a single cup wouldn’t kill her otherwise. With this much of the root, it doesn’t matter how diluted in the water it is, she’ll be dead before the etorphine wears off. 

As the last drops fall into Hannah’s mouth, Deb and I share a look again, our lips meeting for the briefest of moments.

-

“Lieutenant Morgan.” Deb nods and looks up at me, the hot shower water still cascading down over her shoulders as she wiggles her ass against my crotch. Early morning teasing at its finest. “Got it. Keep me updated.”

“A body so early?”

“Hannah’s. They found the warehouse already. Good thing we were done and out of there by midnight.” Deb nods and tosses her phone out of my shower onto the waiting towel, leaning back against me once the shower curtain closes. “I should feel disgusted by what we did, but for some reason I just feel...”

“Nothing.” Deb nods and leans against me slightly more. I take the hint and wrap my arms around her, holding her close under the steaming water; just another thing we’ve always had in common: boiling hot showers. “I’d say you get used to it, but you shouldn’t.”

“Do you always feel nothing when you kill?”

“Not always. Sometimes there’s anger. Other times, there’s some emotion I can’t describe. Elation, I guess.”

“You’re a weird fuck Dex.”

“I’m fucking my sister, yeah, I’m kinda weird.” Deb laughs and backs us further under the water. She turns and laughs even harder at the hair plastered to my face. 

“C’mon, we gotta get to work.”

“And here I was, hoping we got in the shower just to get dirty again.” Deb rolls her eyes and grabs my shampoo bottle, squirting a huge dollop onto the center of my chest with a laugh. 

-

“Guess you already heard about Hannah McKay.” I look up from my paperwork and stare at Quinn; he’s standing in a disturbing similar way to how Doakes would once stand. “Must be nice to have the fucking Lieutenant in the family.”

“What’s your problem with me Quinn?”

“My problem with you is that after years of seeing you behave like the all too perfect lab geek and then smiling at that murder scene...something just ain’t right about you. Maybe LaGuerta was right, huh? Maybe you’re the real Bay Harbor Butcher and we were all just too stupid to see it.” I just laugh the accusation off, knowing that his time would be coming in about...

“Quinn! Get your fucking ass in my office, now!” Quinn and I look out towards Deb’s office. She’s livid. Probably because of the anonymous tip I had left that let her know there was a mole in our office that got Sirko out of jail. All it took was leaving a few select papers from Sirko’s files in the box containing the evidence we had on him to make the whole thing complete.

Quinn gives me another dirty look and walks off, disappearing into my sister’s office, the door slamming hard enough shut that the windows rattle. Everyone in the bullpen snickers at the predicament that the mostly unpopular detective has found himself in. 

I watch and wait. I’m patient, another trait instilled in me by Harry during the training he put me through, how he had me accompany him on stakeouts and impressed upon me the importance of waiting for all of the answers. Ten minutes pass, then twenty and finally, the door opens and Debra pushes Quinn out of her door, his hands in cuffs. Our eyes connect and a flicker of realization crosses his face, earning a slight smile from me. Bautista looks like he wants to argue, but two uniforms come from the hall and take Quinn away, but it looks like Bautista is going to get his chance as Deb points to her office and closes the door angrily.

I gave you plenty of chances Quinn. It was either this or my table. Maybe he’ll learn that he should never have been a dirty cop in the first place, then this would never have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a few plot holes in this and some parts that don’t really make sense, but I did the best I could with editing it since all of my writing is currently done on an iPhone 7+. 
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, criticisms or to tell me I’m a horrible writer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Code is explained, Deb gets a surprise at work and some Debster smut at the end.

“Quinn is free.”

“What?” I snap my head around to look at Deb as she walks into my apartment and shrugs her jacket off. 

“His fucking lawyers got him off the charges, and there was a lot of fucking charges against him. Tampering with police evidence, accepting bribes, accessory to human trafficking, aiding and abetting international criminals, drug trafficking charges, like, a dozen of each fucking charge and his fucking lawyer got him off.”

“How did he manage to do that?” And where did he manage to find the one competent lawyer in Miami?

“His lawyer issued a subpoena for all of the evidence records from the Sirko case and because that file wasn’t categorized correctly and some of it is missing, most of the fucking evidence didn’t stick. The only positive is that I managed to have him thrown off the force, but I have to go to Matthews tomorrow and make sure that actually sticks since he came out of retirement to deal with the structure of the department being so fucked. I should have gone with my gut and never trusted that piece of shit.”

Deb sighs and walks to my fridge to pull a beer out, popping it open against my counter with a shake of her head.

“What did Bautista have to say about all of this? Quinn was his partner after all.” Deb faulters and gags on the beer in her hand.

“He said he wished he actually put through the transfer he was going to request to have Quinn sent to another department or another precinct altogether after I told him everything. I fucking wish he would have, we could have nailed Sirko and his little Brotherhood buddies to the fucking wall and shut down their trafficking and drug operation.” Deb takes a long sip of her beer and sits down on the edge of my desk, not noticing me discreetly but urgently closing tabs. “What made you give us the files?”

I look up to Deb with mock confusion in my eyes.

“Deb, I don’t-“

“C’mon Dex, I’m your sister...which is still weird to say, but I’m also your...hidden girlfriend, which is even fucking weirder to say. You don’t have to lie to me.”

I sigh and slump down into my chair and run my hands through my hair a few times. “I just thought it would be better than my usual methods. Plus, it gets Quinn off the force and discredits him entirely. Nothing he says will ever be taken seriously, even if he ever somehow got proof.”

“Lesser of two evils considering the other alternative was wrapping him up in plastic, right?” I nod without looking at her, smiling as she reaches out and grabs my knee. “So, want to tell me about this so-called code that Dad gave you? I get the gist since you explained the first rule a little, you know, don’t get caught, but what about the rest?”

“There’s not a whole lot to tell. It’s basically just the Ten Commandments as told by Harry Morgan.”

“Well, start at the top and explain it to me.” I sigh and stand from the chair, making my way to the kitchen to grab a beer myself. I pop it open in the same manner as Deb and return to the seat behind my desk. “Right, so, rule one?”

“Alright. Well, rule one was not to get caught. Dad always told me that, never getting caught was obviously essential. It gives me a lot of room to work with the second rule.”

“Doesn’t seem to have worked out too fucking well in the last few years.” I nod and take another swig. “Rule two?”

“Never harm an innocent person. But innocent is strictly defined as someone who isn’t a killer. There’s plenty of people that I would love to have strapped to my table, but the code gets in the way, unless they break the first rule.”

“Never getting caught...so you can ignore the second rule if they make you break the first one?”

“Yes. Dad was pretty insistent on that. Killing an innocent can be excused if it means I can continue on to kill those who deserve it to save future lives. I don’t particularly like the idea of killing an innocent person but it’s been...unavoidable in some cases.”

“I guess I can understand that...I’ll never be okay with killing an innocent person, but I understand how much good you do in this world, but...I don’t know where the fuck I was going with that thought, go ahead. Next rule.”

“Everyone that ends up on my table has to be someone who escaped justice.”

“Fucked that up a few times.”

“Three times to be exact.”

“Three? Fucking hell Dex, who else besides Viktor Baskov?”

“Anthony Rodrigo and Clemson Galt. I actually broke Galt out of prison to take him out.”

“Another crime, Dex? You better be fucking thankful that I’m in love with you and that you did a good thing, cause the crimes keep adding up.”

“Sorry.” Deb rolls her eyes as she brings the bottle to her lips, taking a moment after swallowing to quickly kiss me and motioning for me to continue. “The fourth rule is more of a guideline. Killing has to have a reason, a purpose or it’s just murdering someone.”

“Has that ever happened?”

“Just the guy after Rita died that I told you about.” Deb nods and takes another long drink from her bottle.

“Okay, lets just keep this simple, you lay out the rest of the rules and then explain each bit one by one, cause I do not have enough alcohol to hold me over if we do this so slowly.”

“Uh...next one was to blend in socially, then pretend to be normal, control and channel my urges, be prepared, don’t make a scene and not to make things personal.” Deb nods once more and finishes off the bottle in her hands. I watch as she makes her way to the fridge and grab the rest of the six pack. 

“I’m going to need the rest of these anyways. Taking it slow won’t do a fucking thing to lessen the blow on all of this. Take it from blending in.”

“That mask you asked me about, about how I seem to blend in so well and am able to fake so much. Dad taught me that blending in and being just like everyone else is what would keep me from being remembered. Live a normal life, stay under the radar and just...be.”

“Makes sense I guess.” Deb replies quietly, nearly a whisper as she pop open another beer. 

“The whole pretend to be normal thing goes with blending in. Channeling my urges is just preparing for the kill itself. The hunt, gathering evidence. It gives me focus, takes that urge and gives the Dark Passenger meaning and direction. It’s probably the most important outside if not getting caught and not hurting innocent people. If I didn’t have that rule I might have killed someone completely innocent just to satiate that part of myself.”

“Not making a scene is why you always seem so detached from everything, right?”

“That and the lack of general emotions about most things.”

“Most things?”

“Like you and the kids. Even some of the others in the department I care about in a way.” Deb nods and sets the beer down to take my hand, leading the two of us to the couch to sit. She sits right next to me and leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “You know I love you right?”

“I know Dex. I love you too. What about the last one? You can’t tell me none of your kills have never been personal.”

“No, I can’t. I hunted down every man who participated in killing my mother. Estrada was the last piece of the puzzle.” I can feel her stiffen slightly beside me, but as a silence drags on, she relaxes back into my side. “On some level, Miguel Prado-“

“Wait, Prado too?” I nod and Deb swears under her breath. 

“It’s not like I planned it. He basically caught me killing Freebo and wanted to learn how to kill people. He took Harry’s code and bastardized it. I thought I had found an actual friend in Miguel, but when he killed Ellen Wolfe, I knew what had to be done.”

“Jesus fuck, this rabbit hole is never ending.”

“No, that’s pretty much it. I’ve killed two more in the last few months outside of Hannah but the urge is...diminishing. Greatly.”

“Seriously? You’re not just saying that shit, are you?”

“No, I’m not just saying it. It’s like I’m starting to not just pretend to be normal. It’s like the facade I created has stopped being a facade, it’s becoming my real life.” I look over to Deb to see her curious gaze. “I would have to guess you’re a part of that. Ever since you first admitted you were in love with me, my world has been changing.”

“Ugh, dont fucking bring that up. I chose the worst possible moment to confess that.”

“Outside of when you first intended to do it?” I smile as Deb swats my shoulder. I grab her hand as it connects and move it over my heart, smiling as she pushes herself tighter to me. “So that’s pretty much it. The code is simple, they’re really just guidelines to keep me from the chair.”

“This is all still pretty fucking crazy, Dex.”

“I know.” Deb sighs and reaches up to turn my face towards her, catching my lips with her own. “Now we just have to worry about getting Harrison back.”

“How do we explain that daddy dearest and aunty Deb sleep in the same bed and like taking fucking showers together?”

“Good question.” One thing I definitely don’t have an answer for. 

“How long do you think we can keep this up before someone finds out?” Another question I don’t have an answer for. “Cause I don’t want to give this up. You’re the one constantly good thing in my fucking life Dexter, I don’t want to let this go. Ever.”

“I don’t either.” And I really don’t. As Deb kisses me once more and relaxes into my side, I feel a genuine smile on my lips. I never want this to end.

-

“Hey Quinn, what the fuck are you doing here?” I can hear Deb shout from my little office. I look up to see him being escorted by two uniformed officers and Matthews. 

“Relax, Deb, I’m just here to pick up my personal shit from my desk, nothing too serious. Even got two unis here to make sure I don’t go all ‘rogue cop without a care’ on everyone. Right guys?” The two officers just stare at Quinn, their eyes cold and filled with hate. I can’t say I blame them, he single handedly made their jobs harder over the years with his assistance to the Brotherhood. “So, I’ll just-“

“I’ll have it fucking mailed to you.”

“Nah, I can grab all of it myself-“

“It wasn’t an offer. Officers, escort Mister Quinn out of my fucking department.” Quinn raises his hands in defeat and chuckles as he takes a few steps back.

“Easy, Deb. It’s not a big deal. I mean, I know we had our own little relationship going at one point but this takes angry ex to a whole new level.”

“You were a toy, Quinn. And not even a good one at that. Get him out of here.” Quinn continues to laugh as he’s lead away, but Matthews stays behind.

“Alright everyone listen up.” Matthews looks over toward the lab. “I’ve decided to return to my wonderful retired life. I know, I know, none of us ever seem to stay retired for long, I came back Sergeant Bautista came back, but this time it’s for real. In the mean time, before I take that final walk out of those doors, I have to appoint a new Captain. I’m not bringing in anyone else from another precinct or department and I sure as hell am not bringing in anyone from out of state. I’m promoting from within and giving this person full control over who replaces them as the new Lieutenant of homicide.”

Everyone was gathered around Matthews now, even I made the odd appearance of walking out of my lab to listen closer. 

“Your new Captain, is...” Matthews pauses and looks around the assembled people, but I can feel what’s coming. All of us can. “Debra Morgan.”

Deb looks shellshocked. Her jaw drops open and she stares as Matthews with wide eyes as the rest of the department begins to applaud her. Even I chip in.

“Sir, is that really the right choice?”

“You’re a super star Morgan. The public respects you, you’ve gotten commendations out of the ass and you’ve done this department a service in every position you’ve held. I can’t think of a better replacement. If Bautista wasn’t only coming out of retirement temporarily like me, I would have considered him for the position. But anyway, congratulations, Debra. Your promotion is effective immediately, so get thinking on your replacement-“

“Bautista, if I made you the Lieutenant, would you stay out of retirement?” I look towards Bautista and I can see the conflict in his eyes; he’s wanted to be the Lieutenant ever since the position opened up, but when Deb got the spot instead of him he decided to open a restaurant instead. 

“I uh...Estas segura? Are you sure? I’ve been out of the game a little bit and I got the restaurant and everything else going on-“

“Shit Angel, if you don’t want it, just say so.” Deb replies quickly back with a knowing smile. She knows his answer just as well as any of us do. Angel laughs nervously and gives a look around at all of us before nodding.

“Alright, I guess I’m coming out of retirement.” The applause is just as loud as it was for Deb, but it lasted considerably longer. Most likely due to the joy of having Bautista back however, Deb doesn’t seem to mind. If anything she’s just just as happy to have Angel back. 

“Now that all of that’s settled, Morgan, we’re moving your new office for obvious reasons but until further notice, you’re on something of a paid leave. You’ll still be expected to check in and pass down orders as required to your new Lieutenant, but for the next week or so, take your time off. When you come back, the promotion ceremony will take place and we can all keep on living.” The crowd disperses a bit as Angel goes around and receives congratulations from everyone in the department. As he makes his way to me, Deb is still talking to Matthews.

“Socio, crazy shit, right? One day, I’m owning a floundering restaurant where cops just come to get drunk, the next, I’m the Lieutenant of homicide. This is a weird world we live in, yeah?”

“Pretty weird world, Angel.” You have no idea just how weird all of this is really is. “I’m happy for you though Angel. You deserve it. Deb always thought you deserved it more than she did.”

“Ahhh, your sister’s a great cop. She’s got that killer instinct in her. She’s going to be a great Captain. She’s still young too, she could be the Chief in a few years. Talk about the gravy train.”

“What about you? This is pretty big pay bump, right?”

“Oh, massive. My retirement wasn’t paying shit and the restaurant is a year from closing because no one wants to be around drunk cops with their kids. Go figure yeah?” I chuckle along with Angel and I feel another part of the facade crumbling away to reveal the truth beneath it, that my little world of pretend and falsities has slowly become a reality. I actually do care for Angel as a friend that he always considered me. What is happening to me? Why am I becoming more...human? With Deb, I can understand it, when we’re together she’s like this missing piece to a puzzle I never knew I hadn’t finished, but this? This is uncharted territory.

“Dex!” Deb motions for me to join her with Matthews. The old Chief smiles as I walk over, hands in my pockets. “Matthews has something to tell you.”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?” I can hear Harry’s disbelief in my mind, I almost share his thoughts. 

“Well, Dexter Morgan, ‘what’s up’ is that you’ve been doing a phenomenal job. I was going to wait a while to announce this, but since I just told Debra and since I’m going back to my boat to float away the rest of my life, I have nothing to lose. We’re giving you a pay bump and allowing you to choose the next piece of equipment for the lab that gets purchased.”

“I get to choose the equipment?” Matthews nods and I feel like a kid on Christmas lying about what he wants. I have to choose something that benefits the department, not something that I can use to gather evidence on targets, not specifically anyway. “How about some more server bandwidth and a mobile FSIS lab?”

“Never heard of it, but as long as it falls within the budget, it’s yours. Oh, and uh, since you’re family, you get to accompany Captain Morgan here with her celebratory time off. Take the next few days and make the most of it. Masouka will handle your overflow work until you get back.” I hear Vince groan in the background, smiling hollowly in as apologetic a way as possible. “Well, lets get on with it.”

Matthews walks away and leaves me standing awkwardly next to Deb. We share a smile and I can feel the same pull she must be feeling; we want to share a hell of a lot more than just a smile.

-

I always knew the supply closet was pretty big, but that knowledge was only valid when I was the only one in it. With Deb on her knees with my cock in her mouth and the door locked from the inside, it’s significantly smaller. Deb isn’t perturbed by this though, she just simply keeps bobbing her head, taking more of my length into her mouth and throat with each movement until her nose is pressed against my skin.

She gags a little and pulls completely back stroking me with the thick saliva now hanging from her chin and sticking to me.

“No wonder I don’t do this often. Any further and you’re going to be stirring up the breakfast we had earlier.” I manage a laugh before she drives her head back down, taking me completely into her throat once more as my knees shake a little. I manage to control my reaction to the sensation, but my resolve is breaking quickly. 

As my body starts to tighten up, I feel Deb’s tongue snake out under my length, tickling the bottom of my balls. The sensations are just too much and I can’t hold back anymore. I manage to stifle my groan but but nothing else as I unload inside of her hot warm mouth. I can hear her gulping and struggling to keep me lodged in her throat, but after nearly a minute, she pulls back with a ‘cat that got the cream’ look and smiles up at me as she cleans me entirely.

“You need to eat more fruits.”

“I’ll show you what I need to eat.” I quickly lift her from under arms and push her back against the shelves of supplies. It doesn’t take much maneuvering as she sees exactly what I’m doing and helps me along the way, lifting her own leg and draping it over my shoulder as my tongue gets to work playing with her slick entrance. 

In less than a minute, I can hear her moaning into her hand. I find I don’t care if someone hears us, but Deb is doing well enough keeping herself quiet as my tongue circles around her clit in small, tight circles. As she bucks against my lips, dampening my cheeks and nose in the process, she lets out a soft squeal as her body begins to shudder and twitch. As her climax subsides, I get back to my feet and can’t help but laugh at the flushed and flustered look on her face. I go to say something but she pulls me in for a fiery, passionate kiss. We break apart after a few long moments or we’ll have been in this closet for far too long. 

“We are so celebrating for next few days straight.” Deb says in her winded way, licking her lips with a glint in her eyes.

“I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left after this. It was interesting to write this out considering most of the fan base seems to be dead or stay away from stories like this these days. Hope you’re all enjoying the ride.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Quinn dilemma is solved, the future is always changing and Deb is always somehow finding her way into new positions...as a cop I mean.

I lay in the bed with Deb cuddled back against me, thinking back over the last few weeks and how things have changed, specifically in the work place. Deb took to being the Captain like a duck to water, running everything as efficiently as she possibly could, though she would call me into her office a few times a day for our usual type of stress relief. 

Bautista sold his restaurant and decided to dedicate even more time to being the Lieutenant for homicide everyone always thought he could be and that we all knew he could be. Over all, the solve rate for murders have been steadily climbing, up from the abysmal twenty percent that it was just half a decade ago, though still significantly lower than where it really should be. 

Over the past month, my Dark Passenger has been silent as more and more of the fake life I had created for myself began to blend with my real one, to the point the two were indistinguishable from one another. 

“You know it isn’t going to last, Dexter.” I look over to the door way, seeing the apparition of Harry. “You’re a killer and you always will be one. There’s no happy ending for monsters, we both always knew that.”

“I’m starting to care less and less about killing. I’m calm, happy even with how life has become.”

“Because of Debra. Your sister.”

“She’s not my sister anymore. She’s so much more than that.”

“I guess I forgot that hidden part of the code where I said to fuck your own sibling-“

“Enough, Harry.” The apparition frowns and looks down at me. “You paved my way of life for so long that I don’t even think it would have been a separate entity if it wasn’t for Deb. She showed me the way to being real. She turned the wooden puppet you had guilded to be the perfect tool for getting rid of serial killers into a real boy with real emotions. I don’t have to fake anymore...not with her.”

“This can’t last forever, Dexter. You can’t marry your sister. You can never walk hand in hand around the people you both know and because she’s the Captain now, everyone knows who she is and they all know who the rockstar blood spatter expert is that cracks nearly every case he’s assigned to. You can’t play house with her and Harrison forever, if you ever get him back.”

“I’m not abandoning my son-“

“Then why haven’t you got him back yet?”

“He’s better off with Gail and the kids full time. It takes him away from my Dark Passenger and lets him be normal.” Harry nods and looks over his shoulder to the sound of the door opening. 

“Better hurry, Dex. A storm is about to come through that door. One you’re not ready for. Time to wake up.” The ghostly specter of my foster father vanishes into the shadows and with him, my dream as my eyes open and I’m back in my bed. As I pull my arm free from Deb and quietly get out of the bed, I hear the front door quietly close, footsteps following behind it.

As carefully and as swiftly as I can, I dig into my closet and find my supply trunk. With a few button presses, I get the bottom drawer open and pull out a knife from my kill kit, holding it as safely as I can as I make my way to the short hallway between the bedroom and the rest of the apartment, spotting the intruder in the meantime; Quinn.

He’s looking through papers and on shelves, completely unaware that the lion has awoken in the den he made a mistake entering. He comes up to my AC unit and shines a light over it, double-taking as he sees something inside, something that was both precious and my deepest secret. I set the knife down on the counter without a sound and reach over to click the light on.

Quinn spins around and levels a gun at me, aiming directly at my heart.

“What are you doing here, Quinn?” He smirks at me shakes his head.

“Looking for proof that you ain’t who you say you are, Super Geek.”

“You came into the wrong house. From those files that were found, it turns out you aren’t who you pretended to be. How embarrassing was it to get taken out of the station in cuffs, Quinn?” He closes the distance and brings the gun under my chin, pressing it hard against the underside of my throat and smiles.

“I could save myself the trouble and just blow you away, you know that? One twitch and your brains are all over the ceiling and I’ll be long gone before anyone ever finds out.”

“The Koshka’s teach you that when you were helping them run their trafficking empire?” Quinn growls and pushes harder against the gun. I make no reaction; it wasn’t the first time I’ve had a gun aimed at me, not even the first time in a year. 

“Ya know, I think LaGuerta was right. Maybe you really are the Bay Harbor Butcher. Maybe that guy, Doakes, maybe he was telling the truth all along?”

“I always hated that name.” Quinn’s eyes grow wide and he takes a step back.

“They were right, weren’t they? You’re the fucking Bay Harbor Butcher...we all thought LaGuerta was crazy, but she was fucking right wasn’t she, you sick fuck?”

“Prove it.” Quinn looks back to my AC unit and gives me the opening I need. I lurch forward and grab the barrel of the gun, twisting his arm upward and shoving him away as he manages to get a shot off. The bullet goes right through my ceiling and wakes Deb, making her shout out in surprise. He falters and drops the gun on the floor as Deb comes running out of my bedroom nearly naked from our night’s activities, leaving Quinn stunned. 

“Deb...the fuck are you doing here? Why are you...” Quinn trails off and looks between the two of us, myself standing there breathing hard as my Dark Passenger roars back to life, weeks of Darkness that I had locked behind the seemingly indestructible flood gates roaring forward like a flame intent on turning everything it touches to ash. My vision sharpens, the shadows become a beacon for me as my blood thirst grips my brain in a crimson flooded grip. “You two are fucking? Or are you just working together...that’s why Dexter never was suspected of anything and how you keep getting promoted...makes perfect sense now.”

“Get on the fucking floor, Quinn.” He isn’t going to listen, I have to take him down myself. My hand steadily reaches for the knife on the counter, closing quickly around the hilt that sings at my touch but as I swing it towards him, he manages to duck away from my slash and shove me back, hurrying out of the door in the confusion of the moment. I look up at my open door and run out onto the catwalk to see Quinn running away from my complex and out into the night. 

“He’s taking things too far.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit of a fucking understatement.” I hear Deb walk out of my apartment behind me, phone in hand but no numbers dialed. “Should I call the station?”

“Someone else probably already has. This is a nice complex, people will take the sound of a gun being shot seriously.” My eyes stay on the path Quinn took, my Dark Passenger is enraged that he got away and I can feel my tentative grasp on his chains slipping and his long held silence coming to an end, but I maintain control, just like I always have and always will.

“The fuck are we going to do?”

“We’re not going to do anything. He wants to play this game, we can play it. But he’s not going to win.” An image flashes in my mind of Quinn and myself at opposite ends of a chess board, himself as the king and me as the queen. He may be the most important piece right now, but I’m the most powerful and he’s exposed. You have no other pieces Quinn, and I’m going to enjoy slowly backing you into a corner.

-

“Captain, you’re sure about all of this? Quinn was one of us-“

“And he tried to kill my fucking brother, Bautista. He stopped being one of us the second he started working for the Koshka Brotherhood. Find his ass and bring him in.” I watch as Deb turns to me and smiles, motioning for me to come over to her and our new Lieutenant. “Dex I need you to give Bautista a statement on everything that happened. It’s what we need to start an official investigation into Quinn. After, we’ll discuss your detail.”

“Deb-“

“Relax fuckleberry, it’s me. I know how Quinn thinks. Besides, my work is basically done for the month and I’ve learned the glorious ability of delegating. I got all of the time in the world to help keep you safe.”

“We’re going to need a lot of evidence to make anything stick to him.”

“We got the guy who sold Quinn the gun to give a statement on video so he can’t recant it, some guy that was down for the Koshkas too. We can link everything back to him, including the charges he got away with.” I nod nervously and look over to Bautista who just gives me a friendly smile and pats me on the back.

“C’mon socio, lets get that statement written up.”

-

“You know, I would feel a lot better about Quinn being on the loose if you didn’t take me out for dinner every fucking night.” Deb whispers to me as we sit in a booth of Sparky’s Roadside. I’ve been taking her out every night of the week because it’s the only real way we can have a date, under the guise of trying to draw Quinn out.

“Deb, I kill people, I’m not worried about Quinn.” I answer quickly as I take a massive bite of the best pulled pork sandwich in Miami. This place definitely facilitated that love. “Besides, now everyone in the department thinks he’s working with the Koshka Brotherhood, he’s not going to be stupid enough to come after me right now.”

“What if he fucking does, Dex? Then what? You can’t exactly kill him in the middle of this investigation.”

“No, but if he does kill someone and gets off, guess who gets a one way trip to my table?” Deb snorts and takes a bite of her own sandwich, her free hand dropping down to grip my thigh. I jump slightly but I manage to hide any other reaction I might have so we don’t draw too many sideways looks. Thank whatever deity is out there that there’s no shared looks between us, since I was adopted and we’re in a part of town that neither of us frequent, we pass off as just a pair of lovebirds. 

It’s...nice. Extremely so.

“I love you.” The words leave me so naturally now, as if they weren’t always words that I said just to seem like a normal person. I can see that I’ve taken Deb off balance; she’s usually the one to say it first, but she smiles and leans into kiss me, leaning back after our lips part.

“I love you too.” 

We finish eating and after a little bit of cajoling, I manage to convince her to take a walk with me. We wander for hours, at least it felt like it until she started complaining that her feet were hurting her. She had slid her heels off and was now walking hand in hand with me down the road. It reminds of another one of my talks with Harry so many years ago...

-

“Why do you think holding hands is weird, Dexter?” I shift slightly and stare at one of the couples across the beach from us. I just can’t figure out the appeal of such a worthless display.

“It’s just...dumb, dad. They make us do it at school and I hate the feeling of someone’s clammy palm against mine, it’s gross and pointless.” Harry chuckles softly as he looks over toward Doris and Debra playing in the sand.

“Holding hands is...well, it’s a way to show affection, Dex. I hold hands with your mother all of the time. Is it still gross when I do it?” I shake my head slowly, not really understanding the point he’s trying to make, something that was obviously clear given my body language apparently. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Dex. Emotions always will be, after what happened to you, but you need to always know that it will be expected by any woman you’re with.”

“It’s still weird.”

“I suppose in some aspects it is. But it’s a nice way to show affection without being overly mushy about things. I would say it’s an art you should master. Simple shows of affection are easy, with you, it’ll help hide the fact from everyone that there’s no other emotions. Unless you can honestly say you love someone.”

“I love you and mom and Deb.”

“Familial love, or just because you know you’re supposed to?” I look back over to Doris and Deb. Deb had just turned fourteen and something about her made the pit of my own fifteen year old stomach feel...weird. I could honestly say that out of everyone, outside of the feelings of family, Deb makes me feel something else. I just don’t know exactly what that is., but I’m broken out of my thoughts as Harry pits and arm around my shoulders and hugs me to him. “Don’t worry about it too much Dex. You’ll see what I mean when you meet the right person.”

-

Is this what Harry meant? The right person? Deb is definitely changing me, from something that I thought was all I would ever be into something I never could have dreamed of being. Is she the right person? How could she be anything but?

I turn to look at Deb, smiling genuinely as she smiles back. I may not know much outside of my work, both sides of it, and I may be pretty illiterate when it comes to romance, but...this just feels like something real, something that is slowly replacing the Dark Passenger without a fight. And I’m completely fine with that.

-

The weeks crawled by without sight of Quinn or whatever band of criminals he’s hidden himself with. The only thing that’s made it impossible to want to go and search for him is currently laying in my arms fast asleep. I’ve managed to keep the tugging whisper of my reborn Dark Passenger in its place but it’s growing more insistent again, demanding to be satiated by the spilling of blood.

The only problem is that I have no one to put on my table. I handed over the possible list of dozens of Sirko’s men to Deb in the hope that I could get rid of Quinn without cutting him into eight tiny little pieces. Maybe I should have just gone with my first instinct.

I lean over Deb’s sleeping body and press my lips to her neck, causing her to moan in her sleep and roll off of my arm. I take advantage of it and slip out of bed and quickly make my way to my computer in the hope that some research will silence my mind. 

“It’s not going to help, Dexter. You’ve tried too hard to be normal and suppressed your urges. You’re going to become a slave to them. You’ve made a huge mistake thinking you can be normal.” I look up at the ghostly apparition of Harry and glare at him. He was right, if he had focused on trying to make me be normal instead of teaching me how to pretend to be so I could kill those deserving, maybe I wouldn’t be like this. “You’ve played house with Debra long enough, son. It’s time to let it all go.”

“Oh what do you know?” My eyes dart to the shadows cast around my apartment in the dark of the night, meeting the eyes of my Dark Passenger, the first time it’s ever manifested itself to me. The shape steps forward and for the first time, I can make out a face to the urge that drives me to kill.

“Brian?”

“Hey little brother.” The apparition of Harry looks over towards my...brother and gapes at him. “Miss me?”

I can’t speak. I know the words but nothing comes out, I can only stare up at the face of my brother, Brian Moser, the one person who would have understood me and accepted me implicitly. If only he hadn’t chosen to target Deb for our kill together, I might not have killed him. 

“No hard feelings about that, by the way.”

“I let you go-“

“And like I said when you decided that, it isn’t that easy to get rid of me.” Brian smiles at me walks over to my desk right beside me, Harry does the same and stands on my right, the opposite of my brother, the devil to Harry’s angel, the Darkness in the Light. “Why don’t you just kill him, Dex? It would be so easy, like you’ve done dozens of times before. You know how to not get caught, mom’s cop lover over there taught you how.”

“Leave her out of this you little-“

“I’m not going to kill Quinn. I don’t have to.”

“Why, because he doesn’t meet your precious code? We are what we are Dexter. Not what Harry made you, not what you spent so many years pretending to be, we are killers Dexter. Good ones too. You take out the trash that kills indiscriminately and I cleaned a few pieces of trash off the street.”

“Enough, Dexter, you have to get him in check-“

“Shut up, Harry. You have no room to lecture anyone. Cheating on your wife with our mother, leaving me to rot while you stole my only family left from me. You betrayed Dex at every fucking turn and you still think you have the right to be indignant over how I just want what’s best for my dear baby brother?”

Their bickering is filling my head, tearing me in two separate directions. I haven’t even opened my laptop to search for another target. Their voices echo and grow louder and louder until they reach a scream cacophony of sounds and motions. I feel it ripping into my mind, threatening to tear me in two directions, intent on leaving me a whimpering mess just like I was in that shipping container I was reborn in-

“Dex? Is everything alright?” The softness of the voice cuts through the fog, silencing the voices and lifting the haze that had settled in my mind. I look up towards Deb, she’s staring at me half awake as she rubs the sleep out of one of her eyes, the other arm wrapped around her own waist. “Research?”

“No. Just...thinking.” Deb walks over to me and sits on the edge of my desk, tussling my hair slightly as she sits down. “I keep thinking about killing Quinn.”

“Jesus fuck, Dex, that is not some shit you drop on me right after I wake up.” She laughs nervously before giving me a serious look. “You’re...not going to, are you?”

“No...yes, I don’t know. I don’t want to. It’s slowly becoming part of my mind that I don’t want to kill. It’s...losing its thrill.” I sigh and rub my eyes for a long minute. “I don’t know what to do. He’s convinced now that I’m the Bay Harbor Butcher just like LaGuerta. If he ever found proof-“

“Well he isn’t going to. All the proof you have is those blood slides in that AC unit. You need a different hiding place for them by the way. You can see the fucking thing through the vents.” I look up towards the AC unit and stand, pulling off the cover and after a moment of hesitation, I pull the box out and open it, drawing a finger the long way down the last remnants of my friends with soft little clacks of the glass. My victims. “Do you do that often? To remember them?”

“Less than I used to. Most of the time I forget they’re even here until the Dark Passenger jumps into the front seat.” Deb looks at me nervously. I don’t see it, but I can feel it. The voices of my brother and my foster father might be silent and locked away but I can still feel the slightest pull. She must know this by now. 

“Where else can we hide them? Got any ideas in that big beautiful brain of yours?” I feel the smile on my face, even feel the emotions behind it and the tugging lessens just a slight bit more. “Do you even need them anymore?”

“No. But I want them.” Dont I? Don’t I want to remember what I’ve done, the evils that I’ve stopped with my own? I’ve stopped over a hundred killers from killing again, saved untold thousands of people because I put a stop to the Darkness in others with my own. Shouldn’t that be remembered? “I know where to put them. Someplace no one will ever find them.”

“Your boat?” I look sharply towards Deb. “It’s not hard for me to guess, Dex. You love that stupid boat. No one else would really even think about it with how little you’re out on it these days.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“C’mon, lets go back to bed. I have a meeting in the morning with the commissioner and I don’t want to look like a drowned rat.” Deb pulls me by my hands into the bedroom, leaving Brian and Harry out in the living room, as if we’re leaving the whole world behind us. Only the two of us matter right now. That and Deb’s meeting with everyone’s boss tomorrow. Hopefully we can actually get some sleep, but with where her hands are wandering, I doubt it will be anything but restful.

-

“Dexter.” I look up to look for who’s calling me, Angel, of course. I smile and wave to let him know I’m coming. With a jerk, I sign off on my blood report and drop it on my desk. I signal to Masouka through the door that I apparently have a date with the LT. After a nod confirmation, I make my way out of my lab and walk into Bautista’s office.

“Lieutenant.”

“C’mon socio, no need for that.” 

“Uh...okay.”

“Look, I wanted to talk to you before your sister got a chance to. I just wanted to say...I’m gonna miss you.”

“Miss...miss me? Am I going somewhere?” Angel looks at me like I have an extra head growing out of my neck and seems to struggle for the words 

“She...didn’t tell you about the transfer?” No, if she had I would have started researching a place to dump bodies wherever I’m being sent. 

“What transfer? What are you talking about?”

“Well, Debra is getting transferred out to a precinct in California. Apparently they struck some kind of deal to have her since she’s a hotshot that’s helped solve a shit ton of cases.” I guess that explains the meeting she had with the Police Commissioner. 

“I still don’t get it, what does that have to do with me?”

“She specifically said she wouldn’t go without you. I tried to argue to keep both of you here but, she wasn’t having any of it. The transfer is getting finalized soon, probably today.” California. Lots of water ways and a current that drags down towards Mexico. Any bodies I dump out there could easily be attributed to the Cartels and forgotten about. “I guess the pay bump you’re both going to be getting is worth it, huh?”

“Pay bump?”

“Pays almost triple for her position out there. You’re gonna be making double out there, Dex. It’s a shitload of money.”

“It’s not about the money, Angel...it’s...”

“Don’t worry. I know you’re not good with this kind of thing. We’re all going to miss you too.” I give a hollow, short laugh as Bautista crosses his office and hugs me. It’s true, I’m going to miss them. But why? “C’mon, your sister will be here soon with the big announcement and-“

Bautista cuts off as his phone rings. With a confused look he answers it and the good natured smile that’s on his face slowly ebbs away. 

“Bad news?”

“Depends on you look at it. Quinn was spotted going into that strip club the Koshkas own.” I nod slowly as Bautista heads out into the bull pen, whistling for everyone’s attention. “I need everyone here to head down to the Fox Hole, send every available uni out there and lock that building down. We got a report that Quinn went inside and we need to cut him off from whatever he’s doing in there.”

The office bursts into a scramble as the rabbling grows in volume, every detective and Officer is in a mad dash to get down to a strip club. I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere but it’s not my particular brand of humor. As the entire department emptied out, I’m left standing with Angel.

“Aren’t you going down head down there?”

“Why? They don’t need me down there to take Quinn down. I just hope he didn’t jump too far into bed with the Brotherhood.” That makes two of us. 

-

“...and he wasn’t even there?! You scrambled every officer we had available on an anonymous tip?!” I’ve never seen Deb this angry before, not even after everything she’s been through.

“Look, Deb it’s been our best shot in weeks and we know he was booking up with one of their dancers at some point-“

“I don’t give a fuck if he was having a fucking orgy in there, sending every person down there could have given him the perfect chance to get away.” Angel sighs and throws his hands up, taking a step back.

“You’re right. I made a judgment call but it was the wrong one. I’m sorry.” Deb sighs and looks over towards me. “We’re not going to let him get to Dexter, alright? We’ll get another detail assigned-“

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’ve made it clear that I’m his detail. Don’t question me on this Lieutenant.” Angel looks as if he’s been physically slapped, but he nods quietly and hangs his head. “Everyone working the Quinn case is now not on the Quinn case. I’ll handle it personally. Everyone else get to work on whatever the fuck else needs to be done. Dexter, lets go, we have transfer shit to work on.”

I nod and give an apologetic glance around the room as I grab my bag and go to Deb’s side as we head to the elevator. As soon as the doors close, I look over to her and wrap an arm around her waist, causing her to smile weakly. 

“It’s alright, they all know you’re just worried about me.”

“You’re mine now, Dex. I’m not letting anyone take you away from me.”

“No one will.” Because Quinn has resurfaced.

“I know where he is.” 

“You do?”

“Location tracking on his phone. He never lets that stupid thing leave his side.”

“Where did you get the warrant for that?”

“I didn’t. We’re doing this off the books. We’re doing this your way.”

“Deb if he’s surrounded by the Koshkas-“

“He’s not. The stupid prick is just using one of their safe houses down by the Everglades, he traded in every favor he was owed to get it too. I was against killing him, I even think I almost fucking loved him at one point...but I’m not letting him have a chance to take away the one person I really love.”

“You don’t have to do this. We can just give the location to Angel and-“

“No. I want to do this. Especially since we’re leaving the state in a week. I want this done with.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

-

“Quinn open up, its me!” Deb bangs on the door and shouts for him. It’s a shame she’s always been so intent on being a cop, she could have been a decent actress. “Look, I was wrong about all of this. I called of the manhunt for you and took every officer on your case off of it and told them I’m handling it personally, just open the door!”

The door opens a crack and I sink deeper into both the metaphorical and literal shadows. I feel my Dark Passenger, my brother, slide into the front seat. He’s no longer driving just giving me the directions I need. The night focuses, becomes sharper. I can smell the cheap cologne Quinn uses through the door and the scents of the day old Chinese take out he’s eating in the living room, I can hear the squeak of the floorboards under his feet as he shifts uncertainly behind it. I’m in my element but that single beam of light illuminating Deb...she truly is the light in the Darkness.

“Deb...who else is here?”

“No one, now let me in before some patrol sees me out here and blows your cover.” The door opens a bit further and Quinn steps further inside, letting the door stay open just a bit. Deb takes the handle and turns it, stepping inside and leaving the door just slightly ajar. “What the hell have you been doing here? This place is a fucking mess.”

“Hiding. I have all of Miami Metro after me and the Koshkas aren’t happy with how my limited information has benefited them. I can only stay here a few more days before I have to go.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I heard about your transfer through one of the few contacts I still have in the department and I figured, we could, you know, start off where we left things.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It might be better if you just disappear entirely.”

“Deb, I can follow you guys to California and keep looking for evidence. We both know Dexter isn’t who he claims to be and sooner or later, he’s gonna slip up and get caught.”

“That’s not the fucking point Quinn. You keep digging and eventually Dexter is going to figure out that you’re on to him and-“

“Wait, you know what he is?” The silence following that question is deafening. I can hear the sound of my own heart pounding against my ribs, but as soon as I hear the start of a scuffle, I move out of my hiding place in the bushes and push my way into the house, coming face to face with Deb and Quinn, my sister in his arms with a gun pressed to the side of her head. So much for planning. “I knew it was a set up. I could smell your deodorant. Deb might have the mouth of a male trucker but she still uses the girly shit to smell good.”

I raise my hands and push the door closed behind me, showing that I have nothing on me. “I’ll give you what you want.”

“What?”

“Dex, no-“

“It’s alright Deb. He’s not going to stop until he gets what he’s looking for. I just ask that you let Deb go. You don’t want to hurt her.”

“She was gonna help you kill me, give me a reason why I shouldn’t call the cops right now?”

“Because they’d never believe you. You have the star of Miami Metro at Gun point and her hotshot blood spatter expert brother hostage too. They’d just shoot you on sight. But,” I reach into my pocket and pull out a tape recorder, “I have your ticket back onto the force and into a corner office right here. I’ll give you a full confession, just let her go.”

Quinn looks between me and Deb and smacks the side of her head with the bottom of his pistol, quickly leveling it at my chest. 

“Give me the recorder.” I toss it over to him and watch him hit the record button. “This is detective Joseph Quinn, recording the confession of Dexter Morgan, the Bay Harbor Butcher. First off, how many people did you kill?”

“Over a hundred and thirty people.”

“Over a hundred and thirty people? You must have been doing this for years and I’m the one who gets to take you down. I can’t believe it. So you framed Sergeant James Doakes?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He figured out what I am.”

“A psychotic freak.”

“No, I’m a monster. I’m very well aware of what I do.”

“‘I’m a monster? That’s your excuse? You’ve destroyed people’s lives, ripped apart families and that’s your fucking excuse for it?”

“It just sounds bad when you put it that way.” I lower my hands to my sides, but Quinn keeps the Gun aimed directly at my heart, ignoring the pained groans of Deb on the floor beside him. “That enough?”

“More then enough, you son of a bitch. Now get on your fucking knees and put your hands behind your head.” I hesitate for a second, trying to buy some time, but Quinn isn’t having any of it. “Get the fuck down now or I will put you down.”

I have to stall, every second is precious. But my stalling fails as Quinn pulls the trigger, sending a searing piece of metal into my chest. I feel it punch through my sternum, graze one of my lungs and miss my heart completely. Not a vital organ hit and far from fatal, but it hurts like a motherfucker. I collapse to the ground and do my best to not move much, but I do manage to fall in just the spot to watch Quinn who begins to laugh nervously. 

“Fuck...fuck! All I got is this fucking tape and he’s fucking dead now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” I breathe shallowly as I watch Deb spring up to her feet followed by a short glint of metal in the dim light of the entrance to the former Koshka safe house and then a cry of pain. I move quickly and deliberately, pushing myself against the wall. Quinn falls to his knees as with trembling hands, drops his gun to touch at the clear inch of metal poking out of his chest.

I have to say, I’m impressed. To stab that deep, that quickly and have it come out of the other side...maybe I need to rethink my technique. I can’t fight off the cough that bursts out of my mouth or the sticky hot blood that spills down my chin. The bullet must have done more than just graze my lung. 

“Oh fucking fuck!” Deb rushes over to my side and with tears in her eyes looks down into my own. “Dex, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare leave me.”

“It’s getting a little hard to keep my eyes open, Deb. It’s like I’m falling asleep but I can’t fight it off.”

“No! No, no, no, fucking absolutely not, I’m not losing you, Dexter!” I reach up and caress her cheek, my fingers leaving long red streaks across her face as I hear sirens in the back ground. 

“I love you, Deb. With all of my not-so-empty heart.” The pain is starting to grow, the searing all consuming pain is creeping on the edges of my vision and with another cough, I feel my body go limp as the Darkness consumes me once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Lots of characters return for flashes of the past, things are all tied up and our dearly devoted Dexter moves on with his life.

“I told you that this wouldn’t end well, Dexter.”

“Oh shut up you wrinkled old liar. He’s not dead yet, just wounded. You can’t keep a Moser down with some silly gunshot, right Dex? That takes a chainsaw.” Brian laughs at the disgusted look on Harry’s face but my attention isn’t on them, it’s on what we’re in; we’re in a completely black walled shipping container, all three of us sitting at a table like I sat at with Brian before he tried to get me to kill Deb, me in the middle, Harry on the far right and Brian at the far left.

“You call getting shot something silly? I knew I made the right choice to leave you in here, to save Dexter from what you are-“

“From what I am? I kill five hookers, an old woman, our biological father and all of a sudden I’m some kind of monster? Please, MY little brother here has done me proud, with more than a hundred kills under his belt, isn’t that right Dex?”

“It’s not something to proud of Brian. I taught Dexter how to kill so he could survive, to make a difference in this world-“

“That why you purposely overdosed on your heart meds? Cause you were so sure of your perfect little tool-“

“Stop...”

“No, I overdosed because I couldn’t live with myself over what I turned an innocent child into-“

“Stop it...”

“No you did it because you were too weak to see the greatness of what me and him are! Too weak to accept responsibility for your own actions!”

The arguing gets louder, more heated and rebounds around the tiny shipping container, echoing in my head and heart until it feels like I’m going to split open. I can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck! Don’t either of you two ever shut the fuck up?!” Brian and Harry’s stop their bickering to look at me, my brother smiling as my foster father frowns. 

“There, there little brother, it’s alright. We both just want what’s best for you, you know that.”

“The difference, Brian, is that I taught him what was best.”

“You changed him and tried to control him. I just want him to let that demon out to play for a little bit here and there, live a little!”

“ENOUGH!” My own voice drowns theirs out. I bring my elbows to the table and bury my face in my hands, looking up after a long silence as the door opens up. The blinding light that pours inside burns, both as if trying to boil me alive and to cleanse my sins all at the same time...and then a woman walks inside from a time long gone, looking just like I remember her; her blonde hair smooth and tied back in a pony tail, her smile radiant, gleaming and inviting. 

“Hello Dexter.”

“R-Rita?” She smiles lovingly at me and walks through the two inch thick blood, her feet hovering just over the top of it. She bends over the table and kisses my forehead, leaving both Brian and Harry silent. “What’s going on? Am I dead? Because if I’m being honest I expected a lot more fire and brimstone.” 

She laughs and shakes her head, one of her impossibly soft hands coming up to my cheek to softly caress it. 

“You’re not dead, sweetheart. Just...think of this like a dream.”

“I don’t dream much.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Dexter.” She kisses my forehead again and stands straight, a hand extended out to me. I tentatively take it and stand with her, both Brian and Harry standing as well, but as I walk forward, they’re both rooted to the spot they stood in, their feet immobile in the quicksand like blood that had swirled around my feet only moments ago. 

“Where are we going?” Rita just smiles at me and wraps her arms around me as we exit the shipping container, the door slamming shut quickly behind me, the muffled shouts of my brother and foster father muffled inside. As her arms close around my back, the scene changes, we’re no longer in that shipping yard, we’re standing in a very familiar kitchen with a sobbing and much younger Astor sitting with her back pressed against the wall as the frozen scene of the last domestic call ever answered at Rita’s home played out in freeze frame in front of us.

“This is the last call your sister answered to our home, the last time Paul put his hands on me and had total control over me.” I look over to the frozen form of Paul, his fist raised and aiming at the cowering, black-eyed Rita on the ground. “This is what you saved me from.”

“It’s my fault you died.”

“It’s not, Dexter.”

“If I had killed Trinity sooner-“

“I might have lived. But I never, not even once, blamed you for my death, Dexter. Not once.” I look down to Rita and feel something I haven’t felt very often or genuinely, tears are rolling down my face. I’m...crying. “You kept him alive to learn how to keep doing what you do and how to juggle a family to keep me and the kids happy. I never would have understood in life what you do, but being able to see how far you’ve come, all that you’ve gone through...I understand why you do it now.”

“I’m sorry...”

“My only wish, was that I had more time to give you the love you deserve to have Dexter. To truly give you a family, to show you how much you meant to me.”

“I wish I could have shown you what you meant to me...”

“You already did, Dexter.” The scene changes to the night I killed Roger Hicks. It plays out just as I remembered it, even the emotional reaction I had right before I stabbed him. I remember that feeling, that boiling rage that had nothing to do with my Dark Passenger as he insulted Rita, even though we had basically broken up at that point. As the blood pours off of Roger’s body, the scene changes again, to that dirty bathroom where I truly killed with emotion for the first time. 

Again and again, I watch myself swing the boat anchor into the man’s head, watched the man’s skull cave in and spray me with with a pink mist as the hooks of the anchor threw his brains all over the bathroom. 

“You killed just for someone insulting my memory, Dexter. You already killed the man who killed me but you left behind everything you knew, everything you had been taught and used that heartbreak. You’ve come out on the other side so strong, Dexter.”

“I miss you Rita...I miss you so much...” I feel her hand on my cheek as she lifts herself up on the tips of her toes and presses her lips to mine. It’s chaste and fast but it sends a warmth spreading through every cell in my body, just like it always used to. 

“I miss you too, Dexter. But I’m not the only one you need to remember.” Rita looks over the body of the murdered stranger and the scene changes just outside of the window. We approach it hand in hand. 

It’s the garage behind my biological fathers house, the same shed that Brian tied Deb up inside of so the two of us could kill her as a reunion. We watch the scene play out, and watch my impulse to grab his arm, stopping him from killing Deb and the world slows to a stop just as we start struggling. 

“You need to remember her, Dexter. Even back then, she loved you, more than just as a brother. Part of me could see it but she valued you being happy with me over her own confused desires that she’d refused to admit. She needs you now Dexter, just like I needed you.”

“But...the kids...”

“They’ll understand Dexter. They’ll miss you and love you just as they always have, but you have to get Harrison back from my mother. Take him and live your life.” I nod as the tears continue to roll down my face. I wipe the tears away and look back to where Rita was standing, the sight of the shipping container meeting me as my eyes open once more.

I look in at the specters of Brian and Harry and then at the handles that could close the door on them. Do I lock this part of me away, only accessed when needed, do I keep my Dark Passenger and my foster father’s code beside me and free? 

“You know what you gotta do, Morgan.” I turn my head fast enough for my neck to almost sprain. “Surprised to see me?”

“Sergeant Doakes. Since when were we ever close enough for to come to my little dream reunion?”

“Oh please, I got to see the real you first hand, Morgan, remember? You killed someone right in front of me, separated by just a thin sheet of plastic. We had breakthroughs in that little cabin. I’d say barring your sister I know you better than anyone.” I continue to stare at Doakes as he looks inside the shipping container. “So this is the shit that went down here. Always knew you were connected to the fucking Ice Truck Killer.”

“I never said you were wrong.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” Doakes shakes his head and looks back to me. “You know, Morgan, I get it too. The shit you do is fucking sick but I get it. I wasn’t no angel when I was in Special Forces, I did some fucked up shit in Haiti, but what you do...that is some sick fuck murder ritual. But I get it. You and me weren’t so different.”

“I see it differently.”

“Course you do. You did the same shit I did, cleaning up the streets, taking killers out of the equation. Only difference is I didn’t do the shit you do.”

“I really don’t need a chat on ethics from you-“

“Shut the fuck up and listen, Morgan. You kill people, but they deserve it, right? But you can’t keep doing this man. Murder, frame jobs. It’s too much and it’s gonna bite you on the ass when the time comes unless you put a stop to it.” 

“What do you suggest then, Sergeant?”

“Lock all that shit away and only bring it out when you need it. When it’s necessary. You found a way to control those urges-“

“My Primal Passenger...”

“Debra. You found Debra.” I nod and look back into the shipping container, tentatively taking hold of one of the handles. Doakes reaches out and takes the other, smirking at me. “Just like I told you back then, Morgan. We can do this together.”

“You were talking about turning me in back then.”

“Not exactly an option I have right now.” Doakes laughs at me and I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “You know Morgan, under different circumstances, we coulda been friends. And I mean that shit.”

“I feel the same way. You never believed any thing about me was real, that there was always something...off about me.”

“Yeah, go figure. You work in a building full of fucking cops and I was the only one who saw what you really were, even after that whole bullshit episode at that junky meeting.” It’s my turn to laugh, as Doakes steps forward and closes his side of the shipping container. “This is your last chance to change your mind, Morgan. You can choose to leave this open, but that urge is gonna come back and fuck your life in the ass.”

“I know.”

“So close this shit, open it up when you need it and go live happily ever fucking after with...I’m not saying that last part, white people are crazy enough as is.” I laugh and slowly close my side of the shipping container, doing the best that I can to ignore the shouts and screams of Brian and Harry from the other side. As the handle turned and locked them away, the screaming stopped. I turn to Doakes and smile, but my attention is drawn away by another voice quietly saying my name. I look around to see Deb standing in a cloud of white mist, tears running down her face. Doakes sees my reaction and chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“Go on.”

“What happens to you when I leave?”

“Well, I doubt I’m going to get blown to shit by your overly attached junky girlfriend here in your mind, Morgan. I’ll keep an eye on this. Stop these fuckers from getting out.”

“I appreciate it.”

“And I’d appreciate if you stop with all of this mushy good-bye shit and get back out there. It’s depressing enough you had to recreate me in your fucking head to talk to you through all of this.”

“So none of this was real? It’s all just in my darkly demented mind?”

“Yeah, it’s all in your fucking head Morgan. But why would that mean it isn’t real?”

-

“...isn’t he waking up? You fucking told me that he would be okay!” I try to muster the energy to open my eyes, but with every passing second of the bright lights over my head pouring through my eyelids, it just feels harder and harder to manage. 

“Captain Morgan-“

“Don’t give me any more of your medical mumbo-jumbo bullshit! Find out why my brother isn’t fucking waking up, god damn it! You told me the surgery would make it more likely for him to wake up if the injuries were repaired!”

“This a bad time to tell you that I’m awake?” If silence made a sound, it would be painfully ringing in my ears at how deathly quiet the room went at my words. With all of the effort I can manage, my eyes open and I look up at the tear stained face of Deb and the speechless, shocked face of the doctor. His wide eyes would almost be enough to make me chuckle but from the hoarseness of my voice, I don’t think it would be a good idea. “What did I miss?”

“Well, Mr. Morgan, you’ve just come out of surgery. There was some minor damage done to your heart that we managed to repair and some damage to your lung that we fixed as well. Your sister insisted on it with it having a possibility of helping you come out of the small coma you had entered from the untreated shock of being shot.” I look back to Deb and notice the puffiness of her eyes, she was probably inconsolable with me in this stupid bed. 

“Am I alright to leave? I’m obviously not dying-“

“Mr. Morgan, you were shot and just got out of surgery to repair damage from that. I can’t in good conscience let you just leave-“

“He wasn’t asking for permission, you fucking quack, he was asking if he can leave.” The doctor sighs and looks through the chart in his hands. 

“At the very earliest, he can leave in a week. He’s out of the coma, recovering nicely from the surgeries, has no atrophy in his muscles and he’s expressed the desire to leave. He’s within his rights to check out then if he so wishes.” The doctor gives me one final look over, makes a few notes and walks out of the room I’ve been in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

As soon as the coast is clear, Deb leans down and presses her lips to mine with a fervent, burning desire to convey just how she feels passing from her lips to mine. It’s intoxicating. The warmth spreads through my entire body, from my lips to my toes and to the top of my head, it has the same sensation as taking one of my victims out of the world does. I smile into the kiss and she pulls back, a watery smile on her face. 

“So...I was in a coma?”

“Yes you were in a fucking coma.” She gives her signature nervous laugh and wipes her face, shaking her head slightly. “I thought you were gonna fucking die and that I’d have to go to fucking wherever the Koshkas are and burn them all alive.”

“Perfect for making s’mores.” Deb laughs and wipes her nose on her sleeve, snorting savagely to clear her nose as she sighs. 

“I thought I was going to fucking lose you, Dex.”

“It would take a lot more than that to get rid of me, Deb.” I smile as she sits at the edge of the hospital bed and looks into me eyes. “How long was I out?”

“A week. A fucking long ass fucking week, Dex. The doctors were afraid you wouldn’t wake up unless you had surgery to repair the damage from getting shot. Luckily I forced their hand on it.”

“What happened to Quinn?”

“Dead. Knife pierced his heart from what I read in the coroner’s report.”

“You must have stabbed him pretty hard to do that.” Deb nodded and looked down to her lap. 

“I also destroyed that tape he made you record. As far as anyone knows I went there to talk him down and you followed me without telling me. Covers things pretty nicely.” I nod and look toward the door as it opens.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but visitation hours are over, Captain. You can come back tomorrow.” The nurse quickly leaves from the look on Deb’s face, leaving the door slightly ajar. She stands sourly, still glaring at where the nurse had stood a moment ago.

“Oh, before I go I have a surprise for you?”

“A surprise?”

“Yup. You’ll have to wait to see it though. It’s a two parter, so we’ll have to have steaks when I show it to you.”

“Steaks sounds mysteriously like a code word for sex.”

“Maybe. I’ll show you when you get back on your feet.”

-

I walk through those elevator doors just like I have every other day for the last few years, box of donuts in hand and a real smile on my face for possibly the first time ever in front of all of my coworkers. The sight before me is different though; there’s no scurrying of detectives grabbing their gear to chase down leads, no suspect being questioned or dragged through to an interrogation room, no witness statements being taken, just my coworkers and...balloons? If something could ever look out of place it would be big red balloons in a homicide department. 

“Hey Dex, come on, your sister isn’t here yet and we want to have something of a surprise.” I barely even have a chance to respond to Masouka as someone pulled my by my bag strap off to the side of the elevator. I would say I’m annoyed by the whole thing, but that would be a monumental understatement. I just wanted to do my final shift, get out of Miami and get everything together for our move to California. 

The minutes tick by and Bautista is left staring at his watch as he sighs and moves away from the elevator, looking at his watch as he walks back into the bullpen. Just as he makes it a few feet away, the bell rings and the doors open up, causing him to spin on his heels and stare inside. 

I watch quietly as Deb walks out of the elevator and rush forward as everyone yells surprise as she almost drops Harrison. I catch my son in my arms and pull back as Deb swears up a storm that would have any trucker blushing. 

“The fucking fuck is this all about?” I try to hold back the chuckle as Deb presses a hand to her chest as she gasps for air.

“It’s going away party, Deb. I probably should have told you, but I didn’t think you were bringing Harrison. Sorry about that.” Deb glares at Bautista and looks around at the smiling faces of our coworkers, a scowl deeply etched into her face. 

“You’re all fucking lucky I’m going to miss you guys.” Deb laughs nervously and begins her round of hugs, stopping short at Masouka as he holds out a hand for her to shake. He sighs and reaches into his pocket to pull on a rubber glove but Deb just laughs loudly and pulls him into a hug. “Yeah, thanks for the forethought, Masouka, but I am gonna miss you, you pervy little freak.”

“Well, feel free to keep our hips this close for a while longer, Cap. I can give you a warm parting gift.” Deb rolls her eyes and shakes her head as Masouka gives his little laugh, walking back into the bullpen, followed by all of our coworkers and me with Harrison in my arms. 

“Speech, Captain?” Deb flushes with embarrassment as Bautista forced a glass of champaign into her hand, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“I-uh...I’m not great with speeches, Bautista-“

“Just once, Cap’n.” Deb growls in frustration and runs her hand through her hair, downing her glass of sparkling liquor in a single gulp and shaking the empty glass at him. 

“I’m gonna need a lot more than fucking one of those if I’m going to give a speech.” Bautista laughs and hands her a full bottle of the fine alcohol. Deb looks down at it and nods appreciatively as she brings it to her lips and drinks heavy gulps from it. “Alright...fuck it. Listen up you miscreants, I first got transferred to homicide when then Captain Matthews took a chance and brought me here because of my bullshit with the refrigerated truck on the Ice Truck Killer.”

A quiet intake of breath had Deb laughing and me shifting nervously as Harrison coo’d against my shoulder. 

“I was just a uniform coming off sting bullshit and dressing in hooker clothes for weeks straight-“

“Still got those by any chance?” Everyone looks at Masouka and chuckles, even Deb.

“You couldn’t afford it, Vinny.” Masouka gives a loud laugh and claps quietly. “I was made detective a few years later and became the LT after that, over Bautista...which I’m glad I was able to rectify that, Angel.”

“Eh, no hurt feelings. I got to open that bar and meet some beautiful ladies as Sergeant Bautista instead.” Bautista elbowed Masouka and tossed me a wink which I smiled at. No need to leave the loveable guy hanging. 

“Then, out of fucking nowhere I got made Captain, the youngest Captain in history of the entire Miami police force. And got put in charge of all of you but it was only for a short time. I didn’t get a chance to annoy you all with how neurotic I can be. But you don’t have to worry about that now, you guys have a solid replacement coming in and I’m heading for the west coast. Trading hurricanes for earthquakes, am I right?”

The rest of the room laughs, able to see the humor, I just can’t help but think about how an earthquake could be a good cover if I feel the need to open that shipping container in my mind. 

“The big thing is, I’m going to miss you guys. All of you, I really am. You guys have become something like family to me. You’re all like my brothers and sisters. Speaking of which, Dex? Got anything to say?” I look nervously around the room but give a smile and nod as Jaime takes Harrison out of my arms.

“Uh...I’m gonna miss you guys. Basically everything that Deb said, but minus the whole uniform and being a cop thing. And the whole hooker clothes thing, I don’t think you guys would appreciate me in eight inch heels as much as her.” The laugh is genuine from everyone, so is the smile and middle finger from my...Deb. “But the rest is true. You’re all like family, even if a little distant at times. I’m going to miss you guys too.”

I really am. Even as those I’ve spent more than a few years around pull me into hugs and give me pats on the back, I can see the truth now for what it all really is. I always felt like I was alone, an outsider looking in through the shudders and milky glass at people but never able to touch them, but the truth is, I made it that way. I have control of my life now, everything is under control in my own little world and even as we spend the day with friends we’ve made over the years in a department where we’ve faced the evils of Miami, I still feel my roots here, like I belong. That’s the real reason why I’ll miss them, Miss this state. When the time comes and Deb and I head out with Harrison in my arms, I watch the elevator close on our friends. 

They’re just on the other side and they know me and Deb will never be back, that we’re leaving Miami behind for less humid pastures, but part of us will always be here, part of my past and parts of my victims.

It’s time for us to move on. Am I still a monster? Am I good, am I evil? I don’t really have those answers.

Do any of us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we end the story of No Longer Darkly Dreaming. It was interesting to write this out and thanks to the other authors that have ventured down this particular pairing that helped give me inspiration and the show itself for being a good thing during rough parts of my life.
> 
> There’s been no comments on this story, which is surprising considering it’s relatively fresh but I value the people who read this all the same. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this trip down a dark memory lane as much as I did writing it

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a work that I’ve been bouncing around in my head for a while. It’s still a work in progress, but I’m aiming for 6 chapters for it to be complete. I do speed over some things because this story isn’t entirely about the kills like the show would be, it’s more about the relationship between Dexter and Deb. 
> 
> Some might question Deb being out of character by being to move on from things so quickly, as it’s shown in the show that she’s a neurotic mess that obsesses over things; my answer to this is that it’s not entirely out of character for her. In the series she’s shown to move on an accept things easily when Dexter is there to actually comfort her and he does a lot more than just comfort her in this story. 
> 
> There’s a happy ending, I off a few characters that I feel dragged the show down and I pick up some points from previous storylines and craft them into a chapter.
> 
> As for formatting and mistakes, please understand that I’m writing this entire story on a word processing app on my phone, so there’s bound to be a few but I’ve read and reread this chapter a dozen times so far to find any.


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